Our Darkest Night
by flaminglake
Summary: Secret War rewritten. When Halt was fifteen he came to Araluen, not knowing what his future would be like. There he meets Crowley, an apprentice ranger and Pauline, who is abused and beaten by her mentors. No spoilers! *Complete*
1. Our Darkest Night

**So I finally did it! This is Secret War, completely and totally rewritten. All 24 chapters of it. :D :D :D :D**

**No Spoilers! If you've read the eighth book, you know Halt's past. The secret is not given away in the story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Halt, Crowley or Pauline. They belong to John Flanagan, author of Ranger's apprentice. Oh and I also don't own places such as Araluen, Hibernia or the ranger concept in general. Nor do I own a good pair of socks ;)**

**Our Darkest Night**

Cold. Cold sucked the strength fom his limbs. It was the night's best weapon. All he could do was huddle on the heaving deck, teeth chattering. The sky was thick with wind and water. He could barely breath. Everytime he tried to take a gasping breath, water filled his nose and mouth.

He was wet. His clothes stuck to his skin. Water kept getting in his eyes and he'd blink it away. He could taste the salt on his lips, though whether from the sea or his tears, he couldn't tell.

He could hear the rowers screaming over the wind. He could hear himself too, whispering mindlessly. He reached inside his jerkin and touched his amulet. He was about to take it out, but couldn't bear the thought of it being lost. It would disappear under the waves and be gone forever.

So he made sure it was safely tucked away and wrapped his arms around his legs as the boat rocked and heaved under him. He was hurled across the deck, bruised and battered. The crew noticed him and one gestured for him to get below deck. He couldn't though, the ship was moving too much. He didn't care if he died anyway. In a way, it would be good. To sink into the dark waters, fish swimming around him.

He recalled a story he'd been told when he was younger. The details were a bit fuzzy but he remembered the main story. A beautiful princess was sailing to Araluen for some reason or another. There was a horrible storm on the way and she drowned. The god of the sea knew of her kind personality so he gave her new life. But he wanted her for himself so he turned her into a creature of the ocean, a mermaid.

He imagined her calling to him, "Halt!" She would cry, "Join me. Join me in the ocean,"

Halt managed to crawl to the mast. He wrapped his arms around it, resting his cheek against the cold wood. The story sounded appealing. But then he remembered the bittersweet ending. The way she cried every night for her fiancee. The way she tried to reach him and ended up stranded on the coast. She burned under the sun and died. Her fiancee found her when her skin was rotting. But he still recognised her face.

He gripped the mast tighter as the ship moved up a wave. He'd always hated that story, he remembered.

He felt no fear. Only misery. If he were to be washed overboard, he wouldn't care. But he couldn't bring himself to let go of his life on purpose. That would be meaningless.

So he clung to the mast as the storm raged on. He never found out how many days he sat there, hunched up and freezing. But eventually the rocking motion eased and the ship sailed through the water.

They reached the coast that night. It was peaceful, the water lapping against the rocks with a gentle swishing sound. The bank was steep but there were boulders leaning against it that Halt knew he could climb. Grass and trees waved slightly in the wind, darker shadows in the night.

"Right, boy. Off ya get," The captain said, jerking a thumb at the beach. Halt counted a few gold coins and handed them to him.

"Thank you," He said quietly. The captain tested the coins with his teeth. Satisfied that they weren't fake, he tucked them into his belt.

"Get lost, boy," He growled, "You've put us through a lot of trouble,"

"I paid you, didn't I?" Halt snapped, his temper rising. He lept easily over the railing, landing in shallow water.

He wandered up the beach, thinking wistfully of his warm bed and the delicious Hibernian banquets. He already missed Hibernia.

His belongings were slung over his shoulder in a small rucksack. H tossed it up onto the grass, hearing the dull thud as it landed. Halt lept from boulder to boulder, finding the best route to the bank. He was athletic and fit and landed with satisfication on the grass barely a minute after he'd left the ship. He retrieved his belongings, frowning in annoyance at the wet side of his bag. It had rained recently by the look of things. He hoped it wouldn't start raining again. He'd had enough water to last him a life time.

Halt leaned back against a tree trunk. He watched the ship slowly head out to sea. He rubbed his hands together and blew on his fingers. It was a cold night.

"This is my home now, huh?" He murmered. It seemed a dismal, depressing thought.

…...

"Go away, dammit!" The ranger spun on his heel, glaring daggers at his apprentice.

The blond boy skidded to a stop beside his master.

"Whats going on, Jarlon?" He asked. Jarlon glared at him, more angry than Crowley had ever seen him before.

"Crowley, I told you. Do not follow me. Got it?"

Crowley didn't get it. It was the middle of the night. He was cold, tired and confused. The previous day, his mentor had suddenly announced he was leaving the corps forever. He'd planned to leave in the morning, but Crowley had refused to go to bed until his mentor changed his mind and Jarlon had eventually stormed off, saying that he would leave now instead.

The boy was convinced his mentor was making a huge mistake. They were short on rangers so some of the smaller fiefs like Clifend or Orsbury didn't have an associated ranger. The corps couldn't afford to let a skilled ranger like Jarlon go. But for some reason, the corps commandant had granted Jarlon permission. Aside from the ranger shortage, Crowley knew Jarlon loved being a ranger. He wouldn't allow his mentor to make such a big mistake.

Jarlon mounted his horse, "I am leaving," He said clearly, "You can't stop me,"

Crowley seized hold of the reins. "Why?" he cried.

Jarlon eyes blazed with anger. He moved lightening fast, hitting Crowley's face.

The boy staggered back, the reins slipping through his fingers. He stared up at the familier face he had come to trust. Jarlon had dulled red hair, like rust. Crowley suspected it had once been flaming, fierce red but stress had sucked the colour from it. Jarlon was always getting stressed out when things didn't go his way.

His eyes were impressive. Crowley loved his eyes. They were deep forest green. When he looked at Jarlons eyes, he could see wisdom but also bitterness. If Crowley were scared, he looked at his mentor and those green eyes would meet his and they would be warm and comforting and make the apprentice feel better.

"Jarlon," He whispered, "Don't leave me all alone,"

Jarlon stared at him. His shoulders sagged miserably. He looked disgusted with himself that he'd hit his own apprentice.

"I'm sorry, Crowley," he said. "The other rangers will take care of you, you don't have to worry."

It wasn't the other rangers Crowley wanted. He didn't care about them, they could go to hell. It was Jarlon he cared about.

His mentor spun his horse around and shot off through the trees.

Crowley ran forward, whistling for his horse. But the ranger had a head start and he never stood a chance of catching up.

His horse, Swift, reached him and he threw himself hopelessly into the saddle. The trees prevented him from reaching a full gallop and Jarlon vanished into the forest.

"JARLON!" He yelled desperarely. There was no reply. His mentor was gone.

He stopped the horse and slid out of the saddle. Swift butted his head against his masters shoulder.

Crowley stood in the dust, tears falling down his face. The silence was dripping from every tree, drowning him. He knew his mentor was making a terrible mistake. He would find him and show him the way back into the corps.

With that resolution in his mind, he headed back to the fief.

…...

Pauline had no friends. Not one. They all went out of their way to avoid her. She knew it was because of THEM. Every bad thing in her life was because of THEM.

She buried her face in her pillow. THEY had been drunk again. How could the king possibly trust them?

She sighed and rolled off her bed. Her room was small, the only furniture being the bed, a desk and a single chair. She liked it though. It was her safe area, where she could cry. She had coloured candles and drawings pinned to the walls and most importantly, a lock. No one could get in for only Pauline had the key.

She lit one of the candles and watched the flame dancing. She was tired but she couldn't sleep. She could hear an owl hooting outside and faint voices which spoke words she couldn't make out.

She sat down on the bed again. For a moment, she rested her head against the wall, breathing deeply. Then she leaned over and moved the candle to the side so she could light her lantern. The light was brighter and she could make out the drawings on the wall.

Her favourite one was of herself with a bunch of other girls her age. She had names for them all and unique personalities. They were who she wanted for friends. Behind them were two more figures. Adults. Her parents.

She moved the lantern around the room. Her hopes and wishes were images in front of her.

She set the lantern down on the desk beside her. She slid under the covers but remained sitting up. She reached for her diary and set it on her lap. Then she arranged the lantern so she could see the pages.

She opened the small book and leafed through to her last entry. She had a pot of ink on the table and a quill ready for use. She began to write, the quill making scratching sounds on the blank paper.

_They killed again. _She wrote, _Even though she said they wouldn't._

She remembered the crashing of glass, the screams. The sound of a fist meeting skin.

_I tried to warn her_

She had told her again and again. Don't let them in your inn. Don't do it. But of course she wouldn't listen to Pauline.

A tear fell onto the paper, smudging the ink.

_I HATE THEM _

She wrote furiously, crying and whispering. A knock on the door made her jump.

"That poor girl was babbling mindlessly," A silky voice said. Pauline drew in a breath sharply. She knew that voice.

"What was it she said?" The voice continued.

"I believe it was something along the lines of, the girl was right," A second voice said, this one deep.

"I wonder what girl she might have meant, Orhan," The first voice said.

Orhan growled, "I wouldn't know, but let's punish her,"

Pauline closed her diary. She knew this drill. If she didn't come out, they wouldn't let her keep the room. And the room was all she had. She hid the diary under the bed, just in case.

She brushed her tears away and tried to look brave. With one last look around the room to make sure everything was in order, she turned the key. The door creaked as she slowly opened it.

A hand gripped her collar and pulled her out. She was lifted off her feet so she saw eye to eye with Orhan. His big potato nose wrinkled as if she stunk. He was the one that stunk though. He wreaked of alchohol. His beady eyes stared at her, his mouth twitched in a sneer.

"I.." She tried to say she was sorry but he swung a massive fist at her, bruising her ribs. He released her and she crumpled to the ground. Pauline babbled mindless apologys, nose brushing the ground.

"Look at me,"

She looked up. Her mentor, Rosalee stood in front of her. Her black hair was neatly tied up, her eyes emotionless pits of blackness. Her skin pale and glowing in the gloom.

"Do you understand what you have done?" She hissed. Pauline bowed her head.

"Y-yes," She stammered, "I-I do,"

"Oh but I don't think you realise," Rosalee said, a malicious gleam in her eye, "Orhan,"

The big man stepped forward. He hit her arms, her legs, her torso. But he left her face. He didn't want anyone discovering what they did to her.

Finally he stopped. Pauline lay on the ground in a daze of pain.

Orhan kicked her into her room. Rosalee looked at her bruised and blackened arms.

"Poor girl," She murmered, "Be sure to wear long sleeves tomorrow,"

The shut the door. Pauline struggled to her feet. She could hear them laughing to themselves as they walked away. She slid the key out of her pocket and locked the door with shaking fingers. She managed to stagger to the bed and collapsed on it.

She lay staring at the ceiling, wishing her life was different.

She rolled over and blew out the lantern and the candle. Her dreams on the wall disappeared in the dark that swallowed the room.

The moon was blocked by clouds that night. That dark, dark night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Halt walked slowly through the town. Not many people were up this time of day. The sun had only just touched the sky.

He had his bag over his shoulder and it seemed to be getting heavier every step he took. Making a life for himself was harder then he had imagined in this foreign country. He touched the pouch where he kept his amulet.

"You wouldn't like it here," He murmered softly.

"Oi, move it kid," Halt jumped like a startled cat. He'd been so absorbed in his depression he hadn't noticed the horse and carriege barely ten metres away. He moved off the path, instinctively blending in with the shadows.

The carriege passed him. He wondered breifly where it was heading but shook the thought away. For now, he needed to find an inn before he collapsed from exhaustion.

For the past two days he had been trekking across the country, resting when he could but never for a full night. He had no camping equipment and had heard stories of travellers freezing to death at night. Every three hours he'd slept for one hour, huddled in his cloak. It was a challenge to force himself onwards and completely different to what Halt was used to.

A window creaked open. Halt glanced up. An elderely woman was leaning out, breathing deeply. She noticed him and sent him a friendly smile.

"Just getting a breath of fresh air," She said cheerfully. Halt swallowed, gritting his teeth as another wave of homesickness flooded over him. Tears sprung up behind his eyes. He blinked them away, annoyed at himself.

"Do you know where the inn is?" He asked her. The woman peered down at him.

"Oh, you're new here," She said as if she'd only just realised she didn't know him, "Straight ahead until you reach the big oak, then turn left and four houses down is the inn,"

"Thank you," Halt called up to her. She smiled again and waved cheerily.

"Not a problem," She said, "Welcome to Clifend,"

Halt adjusted his rucksack on his shoulder. So Clifend was the name of this cheerful little town, he thought to himself.

Some of the residents were waking, he noticed. Severel homes had smoke rising from the chimneys. A few people passed him but had little interest with a small, wiry boy who's words were laced with a hibernian accent.

As Halt neared the centre of town, the castle became visible. He couldn't help his lip curling in contempt. It was barely more then a large fort, he thought, effective enough against an attack but lacking the.. the..

He couldn't think of a suitible word, to his disapointment. Now Hibernia, that had had real castles, he remembered, huge castles with soaring towers...

...and you never liked any of them, Halt told himself severly, what are you trying to do? Make yourself more homesick than you need to be? He had hated Hibernia, hated it. So why did he miss it so much?

The answer was simple. He didn't. He missed the people who lived in it, his friends, family. They were his home and without them...

He touched the pouch holding his amulet again. Halt even missed the reason he'd left. Mostly.

Where one of the streets branched off from the main road, a huge oak tree grew. He brushed his fingers against the rough bark. The tree would have been growing peacefully for decades. It must be filled with wisdom. How many events, good and bad, had it witnessed?

He counted the houses as he passed them. The inn had two floors, the dining hall at the bottom and the rooms on top. He pushed open the door.

The dining hall was empty, which was only to be expected. People would be waking up still. A tall man sat behind the bar. He noticed Halt and rose, a small frown on his face.

"Lookin' for breakfast?" He asked. Halt looked at the ground and shifted awkwardly from foot to foot.

"A room," He mumbled. The man cupped a hand behind his ear, leaning forward.

"Say again, boy, don't go mumbling now,"

Halt gathered his courage and lifted his head, "I'm looking for a room," There was a pause, "To sleep in," he added.

The man blinked at him, "Funny time to go booking a room," he said. Then he shrugged. Business was business.

"Two silver pieces," He said, "Unless you got a horse, that's extra,"

Halt handed over two silver coins, "I don't have a horse," He said, "I came here on foot,"

The man eyed him curiously, "Where from?" He noted the accent but one could hardly walk all the way from Hibernia.

"The coast," Halt said shortly. He just wanted a clean bed, not a discussion with a stranger.

"Clifend is right by the coast, y'know," the inn keeper said conversationally, "Near a cliff. That's where the name's from,"

Halt tried to think of a polite way of phrasing what he had in mind but words failed him. Luckily, the inn keeper noticed his expression.

"Well, I'm sure you must be tired after your walk," He stuck out a grubby hand, "John Henderson's the name,"

Halt shook the hand with distaste, "My name is Halt," He said. He unconciously decided not to use his last name. That would remind him too much of home.

"Have a good nap, Halt," John said cheerfully, "Don't forget to come down for lunch later,"

Halt climbed the stairs and found his room. He locked the door behind him and tossed his stuff in a corner. He didn't bother to undress, just collapsed on the soft bed and let his eyes drift shut.

…...

Halt woke suddenly. He couldn't say what had woken him but he felt he hadn't woken naturally. He sat up, ears straining for an unusual sound, eyes roaming the room. Nothing happened. Birds were twittering outside in a peaceful manner.

He stood warily, feeling for his amulet as he always did when he was uncertain. His nose wrinkled. He wished he hadn't slept in his cloths. He hadn't been able to wash recently and it certainly hadn't helped matters.

Halt relaxed a little, convincing himself that it had been nothing. He was just getting paranoid being so far from home.

_Crash_

Halt's body stiffened and he became alert once more. He fastened his knife scabberd to his belt, unsheathing the knife to admire it's deadly shine. His knife was the only weapon he'd taken with him. The sword he'd left behind. He'd never been a particularly good swordsman anyway.

He slung his bag over his shoulder, planning to leave without getting involved with whatever was going on.

Halt descended the stairs. As he did so he heard yelling voices. A girl screamed.

He reached the bottom of the staircase and pressed against the wall, hoping to stay unseen.

Broken glass littered the floor, cracked cups and smashed plates. There were two men, huge men, with bulging muscles and giant swords on their backs. A small girl, roughly two years younger than Halt, crouched amongst the broken glass. She was remarkably pretty, with curly dark hair and wide hazel eyes. Tears streaked down her face.

Guilt brushed it's fingers across Halt's heart. He was planning on sneaking out the back door while no one was looking. How could he just leave her there?

He looked around the room at the petrified faces. John Henderson was cowering behind the bar. One of the giant men raised his fist above his head.

"Not very brave, are you?" He hissed at the girl. She closed her eyes and looked away.

"Leave her alone!" Someone shouted. Halt blinked in surprise. He saw a boy step forward. He was wearing a strange cloak that seemed to shimmer and distort his figure when he moved. He also had a bow slung over his shoulders but it wouldn't be much use in a close quarter fight like this one.

The big men turned to face him. The boy held out two knives, one smaller, the other large, in front of him.

The men laughed. It started with the one on the left. An explosion of laughter burst from his fat lips, mocking and a little disbelieving.

Halt couldn't see the boys face under the cowl of the cloak. He himself felt a little ashamed at not doing anything. His hand fell to the knife at his hip.

One of the men lunged forward, a massive hand bunched in a fist. The boy neatly side stepped it and brought his big knife up into the giants side. The giant man bellowed in pain and rage, doubling over. The boy knocked him out with the hilt of his knife and turned to face the other one.

Halt saw the girl scurry out the back of the room without a word of thanks and felt a surge of contempt. Then he remembered he was about to do just that and changed his plans. He unsheathed his knife and started to creep behind the remaining man.

The boy didn't see him. He was busy watching the man draw his massive sword. The man grinned. He drew the sword back over his head and swept it down in a crushing stroke. Halt hurried forward, knife at the ready but knowing he didn't stand a chance at getting to the man in time.

There was a clang of metel on metel. The boy had crossed his two knives in an x shape and stopped the sword. Halt had never seen a style of fighting like that before.

Halt couldn't see the mans face from his position but he saw his muscles bunch as he put all his weight on his sword. The boy was forced to his knees, trying to keep the sword away from him.

Halt swung his knife with all his strength. The man crumpled to the ground.

The boy's cowl had fallen off his face and Halt could now see his features. He had blond hair and expressive blue eyes. He was puzzled, Halt saw. The boy bent over the man, checking his pulse.

"I didn't kill him," Halt said.

The boy looked up at him. The inn snapped back to life, John coming out from behind his bar. He seemed embarrased. Halt would be too, if he'd let someone else do all the fighting. The innkeeper said nothing, just started sweeping away the mess.

The buzz of chatter returned. The boy rose to his feet.

"Thank you," He said to Halt, still a little confused. The hibernian shrugged and made a move to leave.

The boy impulsively stepped forward, "I'm Crowley," he said. Halt paused and looked over his shoulder.

"Halt," he said. The boy, Crowley, frowned.

"What?" he asked uncertainly. Halt kicked himself.

"My name is Halt," he nodded.

"Oh," He said. Halt swung the door open, the midday sun shining down.

"Wait!" Crowley called after him, "Where are you going?"

Halt shrugged, "Dunno," he muttered.

Crowley smiled, "I dunno either," he said, "Lemme get my stuff, we can go together,"

Halt sent him an irritated look but the strange boy in the cloak was already darting up the stairs. He didn't really want any company. Then he thought of the crossing knives and the way the cloak shimmered. There was something decidedly strange about it, he thought.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to travel with someone else for a little while. It might take his mind off Hibernia.

Crowley returned, his face lit up with his eager smile. Halt's stomach growled.

"You haven't had breakfast?" Crowley asked. Halt shook his head.

"I know a great tavern," The Araluen said, "Lunch is on me,"

Halt decided that he would definitely travel with Crowley for a while.


	3. Chapter 3

"**The stew was delicious, tender rabbit meat, chopped vegetables, savoury broth..." *stomach growls* Ahhhh, I'm huuungry. I want breakfast! Curse this story! No you must finish it! But I'm huuungry! **

**Ahem... on with the chapter.**

**Chapter 3**

The stew was delicious. Lumps of succulant rabbit meat, chopped vegetables, savoury broth. There was thick bread perfect for mopping it up. Halt wolfed it down, sluping loudly. He finished the plate and had to resist licking it clean. He hadn't realised just how hungry he was.

The Serving maid came over to them.

"Would the young sir like more?" She asked sweetly. She gave Halt a wide smile.

The Hibernian looked up at her, "Please," He said.

Crowley sighed. This was getting expensive. He passed her a few more silver pieces. She trotted off to tell the cook.

Halt took a sip of his coffee, ignoring the Araluen boy across from him. It wasn't bad coffee at all, but a little bitter for his taste.

The serving maid returned with another bowl of rabbit stew. Halt wolfed this down too.

He sat back with a contented sigh, patting his stomach.

"That was good," he said to Crowley, the first time he'd spoken since leaving the inn, "I'm going to learn to make stew like that one day,"

Crowley couldn't think of a suitable reply so he followed his natural curiosity and asked what had been on his mind since meeting the dark haired boy.

"Why are you in Araluen?" He asked, "All alone. Where's your family?"

Halt's dark eyes glowered at the blonde boy. He didn't reply. He unsheathed his knife and laid it on the table.

"You don't have to keep following me," he said in a dark, threatening tone. He'd prefer it if the boy left him alone.

Crowley sat back, hurt and shock clouding his normally cheerful face. Halt got the feeling it was less because of him and more that his words had struck a memory.

Then the hurt on his face disappeared and anger took it's place.

"I'm not," Crowley said, "I treated you to lunch. YOU came with ME,"

Halt glanced at the empty bowls in front of him and felt guilt hit him like a slap in the face. What was wrong with him? He was being nasty to a perfectly nice person who had done nothing but buy him lunch. Not that he hadn't had more then enough money on him. He'd brought plenty from Hibernia with him. Did any mention of his past pain him that much?

He knew he should apologise but his pride prevented him from acting normally. Instead, he looked at the angry blue eyes before him and tried to convey his regret in his own eyes, his words and his manner.

"Right," He said, "But the question is, where do we go next?"

The reaction was exactly what he'd hoped for. The araluen forgot his anger as he picked up on the "we."

"Well, I was thinking we could maybe head to Castle Araluen," Crowley said, his usual eagerness back in his eyes.

Halt bit his lip. He needed time to think on things. He still didn't really want to travel with someone else but he could see no way of disapointing Crowley now. He'd comitted himself.

"Could we stay here for a while?" he asked, suddenly unsure of himself.

Crowley gave him a grin, "Whatever you want, but the inn won't be open and I think I'll die of boredom in a small place like this,"

Halt hesitated, unwilling to share his thoughts with someone he hardly knew. He wanted to find out more about the girl who had run from the inn and the two men who had attacked her. He frowned. They'd left them there unconcious. What would happan when they woke?

"We should tell the authorities about the men in the inn," Halt said, "Who would that be?" He added, realising he didn't know anything about the Araluen way of doing things.

Crowley looked at him as if he were stupid, "The Baron of course, don't you have Barons?"

Halt shrugged, "Yes, at Dun Kilty,"

"Where's that?"

Halt gave him a look, "Hibernia," he said in a tone one might use when speaking to a child.

Crowley flushed, "We have a baron at every fief," he explained.

Halt thought about that and nodded, "That makes sense," He said, "I think we should alert the baron then,"

Crowley rose from his seat, "Lets go," he cocked his head at the Hibernian, "Assuming you can walk after all that food,"

Halt glared at him and strode to the door. The blonde boy hurried to catch up, bumping a few tables on the way.

The two of them headed to the castle.

…...

There was a tentative knock on the door. Pauline stiffened. It didn't sound like the way Rosalee would knock. She left the drawing she was working on.

Taking a deep breath, she opened the door. She recognised the courier at once.

"Lady Melaine," Pauline murmered, "What brings you here?"

Melaine was a mystery to Pauline. She always acted kind and caring but she was a friend of Rosalees. She let Pauline get beaten. Maybe she didn't know, but Pauline doubted it. While Rosalee never let her show her bruises in public she was always dropping subtle hints and never seemed too worried. Sometimes Pauline hated Lady Melaine for doing nothing. Some days, though, when the apprentice really needed a friend, she was grateful for the the thin face surrounded by a mass of chestnut curls that always seemed to know what to say.

"Pauline," Melaine greeted her, "How are you?"

Bad, Pauline wanted to say. She'd been bad since she was chosen as Rosalee's apprentice. Her body was still tender from last nights beating.

"I'm good thank you," She said instead, because she knew no one could find out. Fear filled her at the thought. What would they do to her if someone knew of the beatings? Would they kill her?

"Excellent," Lady Melaine said, "You are to pack your bags and borrow a horse,"

Pauline stared at her. She must have heard wrong, "Excuse me?"

Melaine gave her a warm smile, "Rosalee and I are heading to a small fief called Clifend. Some strange business or another. Rosalee thought it an excellent learning experience for you,"

More likely she was worried I'd run away, Pauline thought. A wave of helplessness crashed over her. She'd never have the guts to run away. Never.

"I am sure it will be a good opportunity," She said, her face set in stone.

For a moment she thought she saw Melaine's smile slip.

"Yes," she said, "Meet us by the west gate,"

Pauline nodded and closed the door. She leaned against the wall, fighting tears. Just talking to people had become such an effort. THEY had done that to her. Every word that came from a friendly mouth, every touch of a dream, every ray of sunlight, it all reminded her of THEM.

She began packing her clothes like a robot, robbed of her spirit and life.

…...

The baron was a tall, overweight man with a thin moustache. He was reading through reports as the chamberlain allowed Halt and Crowley to pass.

He looked up at them and his mouth twitched in a disaproving frown.

"Do you have something to say, boys?" he asked them, not in a friendly manner.

Halt felt the blood rushing to his face. He hated arrogant men.

"Baron Reese," Crowley said. He opened his mouth to say more but the baron beat him to it.

"You wear the cloak of a ranger," He said.

"An apprentice," Crowley corrected him, a gleam of pleasure in his eyes. He had liked being recognised. It made him feel important.

"Two men were attacking a girl in the inn," He said, "We knocked them out, but left them there,"

Reese frowned deeper, "A couple of boys knocked them out? I don't think so. Even if you are a ranger,"

"The real problem is that a harmless girl was being attacked," Halt snapped angrily.

"How do you know she was harmless?" The baron smiled for the first time, "Some of our girls are real feisty,"

Crowley couldn't help a small giggle. Halt glared at the both of them.

"Why would two men bother to attack a girl?" he said, irritated, "She must have something of importance on her,"

"Gold, jewellry," Crowley suggested, "Expensive clothes.."

"She had none of those things," Baron Reece interrupted, "She owns nothing of any real value."

Halt and Crowley gaped at him.

"You mean you already knew?" Crowley asked.

"How did you know so fast?" Halt asked.

"You aren't the only ones clever enough to tell me, you know," Reese chuckled. "Now, you are dismissed. Have fun boys."

"Who told you?" Halt asked, "Why were they attacking her? Who is she?"

"You are dismissed," The Baron repeated.

"Please, sir," Crowley said, "We need a place to stay for a little while since the inn closed.."

Baron Reece rubbed his temple, "You can share a room in the castle for a small fee,"

Crowley groaned inwardly.

"How much?" He asked.

"One gold, three silver"

"Gold!" Crowley exclaimed, "That's robbery!"

The baron eyed him coldly, "That is my offer, boy,"

Halt wordlessly handed over a gold coin plus three silvers, like it was nothing. Crowley gaped at him.

"You are dismissed," The Baron said one last time. The chamberlain showed them out.

"If you had that much money to spare, how come I paid for lunch?" Crowley said to his new friend.

Halt looked at him, faking surprise, "You treated me," he said, "That was your fee for tagging along,"

Crowley stared at him, a little confused, a little angry.

Halt shrugged, "Where's this room of ours?" he asked, "I want to put my bag down and then go find this girl,"

**Halt hates arrogant men but he's a little arrogant himself. He'll learn to be a little more humble later in life ^.^**


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

The party rode slowly through the country. The sun was bright and dazzled the eyes. From time to time birds would sing and cows would moo. A gentle wind might rustle the grass and trees. All of which seemd very peaceful but anyone in the party would say otherwise.

There was a sense of tension about the travellors. Pauline rode in the centre, silent, head bowed forward. She didn't look at the scenery, just hunched in the saddle, trying to make herself as small and inconspicious as possible. Sweat layered her arms but not from the heat. She was terrified, riding between Orhan and Rosalee.

She wished she were back in her room. Pauline snuck a look at the big man. His beady little eyes swivelled towards her. He was riding stiffly, angrily, as if something had gone wrong.

To her left, Rosalee was also stiff. Her mouth was compressed in a thin line. Pauline could sense the tension radiating off the two of them.

Lady Melaine, riding behind them, could also feel it and she tried several times to strike a conversation. The attempts failed miserably. So she she too rode on in silence.

They were also accompanied by two young knights, John and Henry, and the older battlemaster Carver. Carver was thinking through reports in his head and spoke sparingly. Both John and Henry followed his example.

A whole day passed like this. They camped near a small stream in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. Never had Pauline been out of Castle Araluen. The silence surprised her. She was used to the rushing servants and the hum of constant chatter.

They ate steaks and potatos, cooked over the campfire. Rosalee and Orhan didn't linger. They ate and retired to their tents. Pauline felt the atmosphere improve in their absence.

The others began to talk. She was amazed by the unimportance of what they were saying. She would have expected them to be all business but not one person asked what they were doing out in the country. They all know, she realised, they all know what's going on.

She wasn't sure she wanted to know. Where THEY were concerned, it couldn't be good. Though no one else looked as if there was a problem.

"Would anyone like more?" Lady Melaine offered, holding up a pot of coffee.

"Please, my lady," Pauline murmered. The steaming liquid was poured into her cup, warming her hands. She sipped at the drink, listening to them speak.

"There are bears in those woods," Sir Carver said, "Huge ones, could kill a man with one swipe,"

Henry shifted in his seat, craning his head to study the dark line of trees on the hill. His hand fell to the hilt of his sword.

"A sword wouldn't do a thing," Carver continued, "Not against those claws,"

Henry swallowed nervously. John laughed.

"Oh please," He scoffed, then added, "Can't be any worse then Sir Richards dog,"

The three knights grinned at each other. Pauline got the feeling they were good friends. She sensed that Carver might have been their mentor, or at least someone they respected and looked up to. A lump rose in her throat. She wished she had a close friend who she could tease like that.

Pauline knew her social skills were lacking. She spent her time either alone or with her mentor. She preferred alone. She found herself wondering how the knights always knew what to say to each other. It had been such a long time since she had had a friend she didn't know how it worked. Was it an instinctive thing, that you knew what to say to them, or was it practise?

She finished her drink and rubbed her eyes. Her head was spinning. Too many hidden thoughts resurfacing. Rosalee always discouraged thinking. But then, her mentor discouraged everything that might make Pauline happy.

She murmered her good nights and left them chatting. She had never slept in a tent before. There was no exitement at trying new things, just an acceptance that she hadn't done it before.

She curled up under her blankets, trying not to think of how sad her life was. An owl hooted.

She dirfted off to sleep, wishing the sun would never rise, never force her to face THEM again.

…...

Halt walked casually through the castle. He knew as long as there were people around, he would be less noticeble if he didn't try to hide. There may come a time, of course, when he had to venture someplace he wasn't so welcome but that was okay to him. He had no hesitation about sneaking around the castle.

He slipped through a side door. There were no servants here so he proceeded with more caution. He listened for any footsteps. Nothing.

Halt stopped to think. She would be in a room like the one he and Crowley were staying in. He could hardly look in every door, that would be far too suspicious. There could well be people resting in their rooms.

There had to be another way. He closed his eyes, still alert to any sounds. He had to know what was going on!

For the life of him, he couldn't think of any ideas. He could only hope a clue might present itsself.

He continued walking, making almost no sound. It was a skill he believed he had perfected over the years. The ability to move silently, to fade into the backgorund.

He slipped through another door. He paused or a moment, half expecting someone to shout at him. When no one noticed him, he relaxed and tried to look like he knew where he was going.

If someone had asked him why this girl was such an importance, he wouldn't have been able to answer. Because, if he were honest with himself, he didn't really care about the girl. Halt just wanted something to do.

He hadn't liked arriving in Araluen with no idea as to what he would do next. Now, he had a definate goal, it didn't matter so much that he didn't belong, didn't know how he would make a living.

So he focused on this one thing and figured he'd deal with the rest as problems came.

Halt enjoyed himself, sneaking around the castle. For the first time since leaving Hibernia, he didn't feel totally miserable. Sure, he wasn't quite happy, but it was a start. Maybe there was a life for him here after all.

Eventually he had to admit to himself that he wasn't going to find the girl. He decided to return to the room he and Crowley were staying in.

Crowley was already there waiting. He looked up as the Hibernian entered.

"Given up?" He asked. Halt scowled and flopped back on his bed.

"I'm going to go fetch my horse," Crowley told him, "I left him at the inn,"

Halt perked up, sitting up straight, "You have a horse?" he asked.

"Well, yeah," the blond boy said, "How did you get around?"

Halt shrugged, "I didn't do a lot of travelling. Sometimes I'd borrow one but I never really owned a horse,"

Crowley grinned, delighted that he had something the Hibernian hadn't, "I have a special horse," he said proudly, "A ranger horse,"

"Is that what you are? A ranger?" Halt remembered how the baron had identified the Araluen.

"Uh huh," Crowley said, "A kings ranger,"

"So what do you do?" Halt asked.

Crowley beamed, a signal that Halt had asked the right question, "Oh, we protect the people from bandits and thugs, criminals and such like. We advise nobles and even the king!"

"Can you shoot that bow?" Halt gestured to the massive bow leaning on the doorframe.

"I can shoot it lightning quick!" Crowley said, blue eyes glittering, "Plus I can fight with knives, throw 'em, slash with 'em, smash the opponants!"

Halt nodded, "I saw you with your knives in the inn,"

"Also, I can move ultra quietly! Disappear into the night, become a part of the forest... like magic!"

"The ability to fade into the background," Halt said softly. The blond boy looked vagually disapointed that Halt wasn't overly impressed.

Halt himself did a lot of unseen sneaking through the villages and forests of Hibernia. He had also learnt to shoot a bow. The knives were something new though. It didn't sound like a bad job. Then he remembered the part about advising nobles. He wanted nothing to do with nobles, nothing.

"Let's go get your horse then," Halt stood up, "What's it's name?"

Crowley pulled on his boots. He'd taken them off to wait for Halt, "Swift," He said, "And he's a he, not an it,"

"Whatever," Halt shrugged, "Come on," he held the door open.

Crowley sighed, still not sure what to make of the Hibernian. Halt acted like he didn't want company, though he seemed willing enough to stay with Crowley.

He's using me, the blond boy thought, for the food and the horse. But Halt had lots of money, he didn't need any help. It didn't make sense to Crowley. He really didn't want to feel betrayed again, so he told himself to never think of Halt as a friend. It could end up like Jarlon all over again. Bitter betrayel.

Soon though, soon everything would be alright. He just had to find his mentor. Jarlon would tell him it was all a mistake. Or Crowley would persuade him to rejoin the corps and he'd realise how muched he missed being Crowley's mentor. Jarlon had just made a mistake, that was all.

For now, he had no idea where his mentor was, so he'd just stick around with the Hibernian. There wasn't much to gain by continueing to wander around the country. Maybe, he and Halt would blunder into Jarlon sometime. It seemed unlikely in little Clifend, espescially since the fief was so close to the one Crowley had lived in. He'd got the feeling Jarlon was going far away. Still, Crowley hated to be alone, it'd be nice to have someone to talk to.

They walked, each buried in thoughts, back to the inn. John Henderson was not happy to see them, though Halt had no idea why. He was probably just in a bad mood since the inn had lost all it's customers.

Crowley led the way into the stables.

"Swift, Halt," He said gesturing to his friend, "Halt, this is my horse Swift,"

Halt patted Swift's silky nose. He chose to ignore the fact that Crowley was inclined to introduce him to the horse before the horse to him.

Crowley led his horse out of the stable. It was a shaggy horse, small and grey, not at all like the big, glossy animals Halt was used to. But it had intelligent eyes and Halt found he rather liked it.

"So..." Crowley said, rumaging through his pack until he found an apple, "What would you like to do?"

He held the apple out to Swift, who munched on it happily. The blond boy leaned forward, whispering something in the horses ear. Swift made a snorting sound.

There was something about the way horse and boy interacted with each other that reminded Halt of a warm evening. Calm and peaceful.

"I want a horse like yours," He said, a new goal in mind.

Crowley frowned, "Mines a SPECIAL horse," he said, "You can only get one if you belong to the ranger corps,"

"Then I'll join. Is it hard?" Halt said.

"YES, it's hard!" Crowley said, irritated, "I still have three or four years of apprenticeship left!"

"You're an apprentice?" Halt asked, in a provocative tone, "I thought you said you were a Ranger,"

Crowley glared at him.

"How hard can it be if they accepted you?" Halt continued, "I can shoot and move silently or whatever,"

Crowley just glared at him. There was a moment of silence.

"If you want to train as a ranger," Crowley said finally, "You'll need to ride to Castle Araluen and see the corps commandant,"

"Catsle Araluen? That's where the king lives, right?"

"That's right," Crowley shrugged, "I was going to see the Corps commandant before I ran into you,"

"Guess we'll still be travelling together for a while, then," Halt said, "How far is it?"

"Quite far inland," Crowley answered, "It will take a few days, at least,"

"On horseback?"

"Yes,"

"I'd better buy a horse then," Halt said, fingering his money pouch. Crowley nodded agreement.

They walked on in silence, leading Swift behind them.

"Crowley," Halt said thoughtfully, some time later, "If you're an apprentice, where's your mentor?"

He knew he'd said something wrong the moment it left his mouth. Crowley stopped, his back stiff and rigid.

He turned away. "I might just go for a ride, actually," he muttered, mounting Swift. He urged the horse into a fast pace, nearly knocking into a civilion.

Halt blinked, not entirely sure what had just happened. A few startled onlookers recovered themselves and returned to whatever they had been doing previously. Halt caught a few whispers about crazy youths.

He shrugged to himself and continued walking.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The party continued moving just after sunrise. Once again, Pauline found herself between her two least favourite people.

It had started to rain. Icy droplets of water trickled down Pauline's shirt, chilling her to the bone. Her hair was wet and sodden, clinging to her neck. She shivered and hunched down in the saddle.

Lady Melaine urged her horse forward, "You look freezing Pauline," She said, with sympathy in her voice, "Don't you have a cloak?"

Pauline started at the mention of her name. Rosalee quickly intervined.

"Of course she does," The courier said, "Silly girl,"

Pauline didn't have the energy to be angry. Her mentor was in such a bad mood today she had ordered the girl to hand over her cloak when no one was looking. Rosalee did that a lot. If something didn't go her way she would take it out on the apprentice.

"Use mine dear," Rosalee said, a false kindness in her voice. She produced Pauline's cloak and gently draped it over the girls shoulders, "Though I've no idea what was so wrong with yours that you couldn't wear it in this weather.

Pauline let go of the reins to fasten the cloak around her neck. She didn't say anything, just relished the extra warmth it provided.

Lady Melaine smiled, suddenly looking a lot happier, "Well, it's good to see you in high spirits today, Rose," She said, using a shortened version of the couriers name.

Pauline knew better. THEY were both still furious. She could see the tension in Orhans jaw and the gritted teeth behind Rosalee's smile.

Carver, who was leading the way, glanced back to check on them, "Not far now, ladies," he told them, "We'll be there by the end of the day,"

Rosalee turned in the saddle and peered at the surrounding countryside. There was a thin trail of smoke rising from behind a small crest. A farmhouse.

Pauline felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"I was thinking," Her mentor said, "There are an awful lot of us for some girl. Even if it is a mystery,"

Lady Melaine frowned.

The two young knights stopped their horses, confused.

"What are you getting at?" Battlemaster Carver asked.

Rosalee's shoulders rose slightly in a shrug, "Pauline is getting tired, aren't you sweetie?"

Pauline nodded, feeling sick. She wasn't tired but she knew better then to argue.

"We're nearly there," Carver said again.

"So there shouldn't be a problem if I rest with my apprentice for a day? Melaine can handle the diplomatic side of things," Rosalee said, "In any event, all this fuss is probably a false alarm,"

The battlemaster frowned deeply. It seemed pointless to him. They weren't even a days ride away. The younger knights listened to the conversation intently.

Orhan grunted, "I'll stay and protect them. My lady is right. We don't need all of us,"

Pauline closed her eyes and bent her head. Please god, she prayed, please don't let this happan.

Unfortunatly, the action was taken as a sign of tiredness. John nudged his horse over to her and patted her head. She stiffened, her head snapping back up. She gritted her teeth, hating her thudding heart for giving away her fear.

John laughed, oblivious to the unresonable terror that was flooding her body, "The lady is tired," he said cheerfully, "How can we force one as beautiful as her to continue riding?"

Pauline stared. Had he just called her beautiful? No one had said that before! THEY assured her she was hideous. He must be teasing her, she decided. She felt a surge of anger rise in her. There was no reason for him to make her more miserable then she was.

Henry scoffed, rolling his eyes. Yes, they were most definitely teasing her, Pauline decided.

Battlemaster Carver sighed, "Alright," he agreed reluctantly, "But be in Clifend by nightfall,"

Orhan nodded, "I'll make sure of it," he said.

Carver nodded breifly then led the way. Lady Melaine rode beside him, the two younger knights bringng up the rear.

Pauline watched them disappear around the bend, her fear growing stronger. She glanced at the thread of smoke rising from the hills.

Run, she thought, get away before THEY come.

…...

The horse cost less than the room. Strange country, Halt reflected. The mount dealer showed him how to fasten the saddle and look after the horse, as well as a few signals it responded to.

The Hibernian led the horse outside. He said goodbye to the dealer and admired his purchase. He didn't know much about horses but he liked this one.

It wasn't big, like the few he'd ridden in Hibernia, though it wasn't as small as Crowley's. It wasn't as shaggy either. His new mount had a sleek, shiny look to it. Glossy brown with a black mane and tail.

Halt patted his horses nose. He didn't feel much of a connection with it and still wanted one of those special horses Crowley bragged about.

The horse nudged him, it's dark eyes blinking at him. Halt told himself to not think of it as "the horse" and give it a name.

"Dark," He said aloud, "I'll call you Dark," It was a silly name for a horse and Halt was thoroughly unsatisfied with his naming skills. Still, he really did like the dark eyes.

Dark tossed it's... his... head. He seemed to like his name. Halt shrugged. The name was starting to grow on him. Funny how naming things gave them personalities.

"Come on Dark," he said, mounting easily, "Let's go for a ride,"

It felt good to be on horseback. It had been far to long since Halt had ridden. He walked Dark slowly through the streets. The Hibernian felt his muscles relaxing, moving with the gait of the horse. He urged Dark into a canter.

They rode out of the gates of the town. Halt recalled the words of John Henderson, the innkeeper. _Clifend is right by a cliff._

"Let's go find this famous cliff," He said, nudging Dark with his heels to speed the horse up.

They raced over the ground. The wind whistled past Halt's ears, messing up his dark hair. A light rain was starting to fall but he didn't care.

His thoughts drifted to his family, so far away. An intense sadness overcame him. He forced his thoughts away from them, trying to think of something else.

Crowley's face flashed into his mind, eyes showing the pain as he mounted his horse. A trickle of guilt wormed it's way into his heart. He'd apologise later, Halt decided, for now, he wanted to enjoy the day.

He smelt the salt in the wind. They were close.

Dark skidded to a stop. His sides were heaving. Halt realised he'd been pushing the horse too far. He'd have to learn how fast Dark could run and for how long.

He dismounted and tethered his horse to a tree. Dark nosed around for grass he could graze on. There wasn't much and most of it was short and unappetising.

Halt stepped forward to look out over the cliff edge. The waves crashed against the rocks, powerful and anrgy. A light mist was hovering, blending sea into sky.

It was very peaceful. Even though he was soaking wet from the rain, he felt calm. Nature was an incredible thing.

Halt stretched his arms out, drops of rain landing on his fingertips. Unthinkingly, he took a step forward, his eyes fixed on the blurred horizen.

Rocks crumbled, falling down into the merciless waves below. Halt threw himself back from the edge, cursing himself for his stupidity.

Dark whinned anxiously. He tossed his head a few times. Halt didn't bother standing, just sat there, his heart thudding.

Gradually he began to relax again. Cold was clawing it's way to his bones. He didn't care.

He took out his amulet.

"Look at this," he murmered, "You loved the wonders of nature," a small smile touched his lips, "Though I'm not sure you would approve of me being out here in this weather,"

He lay back on the rocks, closing his eyes against the rain. He held the amulet over his heart.

"Miss you," he whispered, "So much,"

He might have stayed there for hours had Dark not interrupted. The horse was wet and miserable and missed the warm stable that had been his home for years.

Halt stood up, tucking the amulet safely away.

"Sorry boy," he said to the horse, "I'm not a very good master, am I?"

He untied the rope from around the tree and swung up into the saddle. The calm that had overcome him was gone, leaving only the cold. He started to shiver.

"Let's go someplace warm," he told the horse, urging him into a fast canter.

Hooves flew over the ground, leaving muddy prints behind. Halt huddled in the saddle, trying to retain some body warmth.

The people in Clifend were inside, sheltering from the rain. He saw figures moving behind the glass.

The oak in the centre of the village was swaying with the breeze. He glanced to where the inn was. To his surprise, he saw a slim figure in a dappled grey and green cloak.

"Crowley?"

The figure looked up. He had a chair in his arms.

"Hey Halt," He greeted him with some surprise, nearly dropping the chair. Halt dismounted and held the door open for him.

"What on earth are you doing?" he asked.

Crowely shrugged, awkwardly getting the chair through the doorway and setting it down by a table.

"I'm helping John fix up the inn," he explained, "I guess I just needed something to do,"

Halt looked around. The shattered glass had been swept up. He wondered what John had done with it.

"Look, about what happened earlier..." he began. Crowley waved it off.

"I overreacted," the blond boy said, "It wasn't your fault,"

"Crowley..." Halt tried again.

"Forget it, okay?"

John Henderson saw the Hibernian and hurried over, "Are you here to help?" he asked abrubtly. Halt scowled, thinking he deserved a better greeting if he was to help. Then he took in the pale face of the man in front of him and the red rimmed eyes. The loss of his customers had obviously hit him hard.

Halt nodded wordlessly and was instantly instructed to do three things at once. It was going to be a busy day.

…...

It was a typical day on the farm. Josh was rounding up the cattle, getting them in order for milking. An energetic Border Collie helped him.

His two daughters were going to milk them. They were good girls, hard workers, Josh reflected. Still, there would always be more to do out in the countryside like they were.

He had three sons. One was in Clifend, trading for food and tools. The others were feeding the pigs and butchering the oldest one.

His wife was around the back of the house, pulling up the potatos. He stretched, satisfied that his daughters could handle the cows and moved to help her. The dog nipped at his heels, her tail wagging.

"Good girl," he told her, patting her head, "Free," he said the command that told her she was no longer needed. She darted off to find exitement and adventure.

Josh found his wife and kissed her breifly. She smiled and showed him the sack full of potatos.

A drawn out howl echoed through the air. Josh stiffened and grabbed a pitchfork that was leaning against the house.

"Stay here," he told his wife.

"Dad!" A girl shrieked.

He sprinted around the house, his weapon held in front of him. He cursed to himself as he heard his wife follow him.

There was a big man standing with a grin plastered on his face. He raised one massive fist, the dead dog hanging from his hand.

There were two others with him, a dignified woman and a young girl. He didn't pay them any attention. He raised the pitchfork.

"Leave!" He ordered, trying not to show any fear.

The big man didn't stop smiling. He tossed the dog aside and stepped toward the girls.

Josh's daughters screamed and ran to hide behind their father. But the big man was fast and he grabbed one of them by her collar.

"Freeze or I kill her!" He snapped.

Josh felt his blood run cold. His wife screamed.

His other daughter was sobbing and crying. She stayed in one place, eyes fixed on the massive hand that had wrapped itsself around the girls neck.

Josh heard footsteps as his sons rushed over.

There was a sickening crunch.

"NO!" Five voices screamed at once. The dead body of the girl crumpled to the ground, her neck snapped.

"Arrgh!" One of the boys yelled and lept forward. His fists were bunched at his sides, ready to fight.

He never stood a chance. The big man stepped aside and gripped his collar. His neck was snapped like his sister's.

Josh was frozen, tears running down his cheeks. Hate burned in his heart; it was almost a physical pain.

The murderer drew his sword from the sheath on his back. It was a massive sword, two handed with a thick blade.

Josh tried to fight. The sword sliced his pitchfork in half. He stared at the broken tool. A burning pain flooded through his body.

He collapsed to the ground. His vision was foggy. A part of him realised he was dying. He heard the screams of his wife and remaining daughter. He saw his family die. Only once they were gone did he slip away into oblivion.

The last thing he saw was the blond girl collapse to the ground crying. She seemed to be saying something but he was too far gone to hear what it was.

"No," Pauline sobbed, "Why didn't they run?"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Hands blistered and aching, the two boys rode slowly to the castle. They let their horses rest in the stable and wearily climbed the flight of stairs to the room they were staying in.

Crowley yawned loudly. It had been a long day of hard work.

There were still a few servants working. Those poor people, Halt thought to himself. He was ready to sleep forever.

The Baron wasn't sleeping. As they passed by, Halt saw a group of travellors being shown in by the chamberlain. A spark of interest found it's way through the tiredness.

A woman in a white, formal looking dress. It seemed to be a uniform of some kind. There were three men in armour with swords hanging from their belts. One was considerably older than the others and Halt noticed the jewels engraved on the sword hilt and sheild slung over his back. A higher ranking knight, maybe a battlemaster?

He glanced at Crowley but the other boy hadn't slowed his pace and seemed uninterested. Halt shrugged and focused on the thought of a warm bed waiting for him. The travellors were forgotten immediately.

...

It was dark when they reached Clifend. Rosalee and Orhan were looking much happier, occasionally laughing at the expression on the poor farmer's face. Pauline rode beside them, feeling sick and tired.

They bedded the horses down in the stable. Or more correctly, Pauline did and the others waited for her.

"Where's the others?" Orhan grunted. Rosalee patted his arm.

"Do not worry," she said in her soft voice, "Melaine can handle this. We have another job to do," she winked at him.

A wide smile spread over his face. He cracked his knuckles.

"Let us find a bed for the night," the courier continued, "Pauline is so very tired,"

Orhan looked at the girl with distaste. Pauline felt her cheeks warming and she fought to keep a neutral, obedient expression.

Rosalee led the way. Her eyes kept darting around, as if she was searching for something.

Pauline could barely take anything in. She was still seeing the farmer, desperatly trying to protect his family. She felt unattatched to her body, like her mind was in another place. Her feet were still following her mentor but her thoughts were with the farmer. He hadn't even had a proper burial.

She noted vagually that there was a chamberlain ushering them into the baron's chamber. She hoped the meeting went fast. She really was just as tired as Rosalee made her out to be.

…...

Halt wasn't sure what had woken him. He lay in his bed, eyes open, listening intently to the sounds of the night. He could hear the vague murmer of conversation outside his room but couldn't make out the words.

Nothing seemed wrong so he let his eyes drift shut and rolled over to get more comfortable.

He heard a small whimper. His eyes flew open again and he rolled over, reaching for his knife. The whimper came again and he realised it was coming from Crowleys corner of the room. In the dim light, all he could see was a hump on the bed where his friend lay.

He crossed the room and reached out to touch the Araluen.

Crowley screamed suddenly, his body jerking in his sleep. It took Halt by surprise and he withdrew his hand in a hurry. He set his knife down.

The other boy was saying something. A name? A place? Halt couldn't make it out. He pulled the blankets off and shook his friend.

"Crowley, wake up!" he said. The blond boy instinctively fought against him, lashing out with hands and feet, screaming again.

"Urf," Halt grunted as a limb slammed into his stomache. He stepped back and cast an irritated look at the boy on the bed.

Crowley's eyes slid open and he brushed some of his sweaty blond hair out of his face.

"Halt?" He peered up at the shadowy figure standing over him.

"You were screaming," Halt told him, rubbing his stomache. He was sure he was bruised.

"Oh... sorry," Crowley said. They stayed like that for a moment, neither of them sure what to do.

After a while Halt yawned, "Let's get some sleep,"

Crowley picked at the bedcovers, "You can," he said, "Do you mind if I light a lantern?"

Halt forced his irritation down. Yes, he did mind, he'd never get to sleep with a light.

"No," He said instead.

A lantern was lit and Halt lay down on his bed and shut his eyes. He could still see the light behind his eyelids. He rolled over and pulled the covers over his head.

It was no use. He sensed Crowley awake behind him and couldn't sleep knowing the other boy was still awake.

Halt rolled back over. His friend was staring at the light casting shadows on the walls. There were tear tracks on his cheeks and Halt thought he saw a fresh tear falling.

"So tell me more about Araluen,"

Crowley looked up and quickly moved the lantern away to hide his face in the dark. Halt preteded he didn't notice.

"What do you want to know?" The blond boy asked, his voice a little unsteady.

Halt shrugged, sitting up, "Anything,"

"I can't think of anything," Crowley said after a while.

Halt stretched and shifted around to get more comfortable. He knew he couldn't ask what he really wanted to know. Where was Crowley's family? And his mentor? What was the nightmare about? The questions burned at the tip of his tongue. Yet he knew he shouldn't ask any of them.

He kicked off the blankets and crouched on Crowley's bed. He ignored the curious look Crowley gave him and positioned the lantern. Using his hands, he made a dog shape on the wall.

"I know that!" Crowley said eagerly. He twisted his fingers around and made a horse. Halt's eyebrows rose, impressed.

They acted out a few scenes, all of them with a lot of humour. Crowley was doubled over with laghter, giggling like a maniac. Halt reached for his amulet. He had it with him at all times.

He stroked the cool surface. I'm sorry, he said in his mind, I stole one of your games.

But he couldn't deny that it was just as fun with Crowley.

…...

After they had spoken with the baron, who Rosalee had assured they had no connection to the other travellors who had arrived earlier in the day, they were shown to their rooms. Orhan got a room of his own but Pauline and Rosalee had to share.

"This way," the Baron said, leading them along a corridor. Pauline was more than a little surprised that the Baron had offered to show them the way himself. There was a nasty gleam in his eyes, she thought.

He paused outside a wooden door, similar to the others in the hall. He pushed at it experimentally. It wouldn't budge.

"Locked," Rosalee observed. The Baron glanced at her, his eyes twinkling.

"It is indeed," he said. He slammed his palm against the wood, making the whole door shake.

"Get up, boys!" He yelled. "We have company,"

Pauline jumped in surprise at the sudden noise. For a moment, nothing happened. Then there was a click as the door was unlocked and it swung open.

A boy, roughly her age, with dark hair and eyes was staring at them. Behind him stood another boy, this one blond. His eyes were red rimmed, as if he'd been crying.

"What?" The dark haired boy snapped. Pauline blinked, taken aback. Who would speak to a baron like that?

The boy's dark eyes turned to her. Her gaze dropped and she picked at her dress.

Baron Reese looked delighted. "Proper guests have arrived," he said, gesturing to the two couriers. "I'm afraid you boys will have to run on home to mummy,"

"What?" Both of them exclaimed at once.

"We paid you a gold coin, dammit!" the one with the dark eyes hissed. He had an accent. Pauline wondered where he was from.

"Your donation will be looked after," Baron Reese said.

Rosalee chuckled, "You are so funny, my lord," she said, fluttering her eyelashes at the baron. Reese flushed.

The blond boy disappeared from view, reappearing with a bag slung over his shoulder and a bow in his hands.

"Let's go Halt," he murmered softly.

The foreigner, Halt, spun around to face his companion. "This is not fair!" He said, furious. "You're just okay with it because YOU weren't the one paying!"

A flash of anger crossed the other boys face, "I payed for your lunch, didn't I? And you seem to have more than enough money for the both of us!"

"Leave now or I will send for the guards," The baron ordered. He had guards with him, of course, but he liked to make threats.

Halt glared at him stubbornly. The blond boy moved past him and down the hall. With a final glare at the baron, Halt grabbed his bag and followed.

Pauline breathed a sigh of relief. They had left. Thank god. She knew that look in Rosalee's eyes.

She hated that look. Hated it.

…...

The night air was cold as they rode through the town.

"Shall we go to Castle Araluen then?" Crowley asked.

"Yes," Halt replied. "Let's go,"

They urged their horses into a canter, each with their own reasons, both with the same destination in mind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Halt and Crowley rode along the dusty track. They had stocked up on food, thanks to another of Halt's coins.

"Stupid, idiotic, annoying..."

Crowley sighed inwardly, determined to ignore his companion. The hibernian had been muttering descriptive words about the baron for ten minutes. Some of them were quite...creative.

"Arrogant, ignorant, nasty..."

Swift's ears twitched and he snorted. Crowley patted his neck.

"Just ignore him," he told the horse.

"Ugly, foul-smelling, ridiculously- what did you say?"

The blond boy shifted guiltily in his saddle, "nothing," he muttered.

"I thought I heard you say to ignore me?" Halt persisted.

"I would never say such a thing!" Crowley exclaimed, faking horror.

Halt narrowed his eyes.

"And anyway, why'd you ask if you knew what I'd said?" The blond boy added.

"So you did say that?" Halt glowered at him, "Well then, I..."

He trailed off as he saw horse galloping over the crest of a hill. Crowley reached behind him and drew an arrow from the quiver on his back.

Halt touched the knife at his belt, wishing he had a better weapon.

As the other rider neared, they could see him better. He was riding a small shaggy horse like Swift. His clothes were plain, a wollen cloak streaming out behind him.

"Stop!" Halt yelled.

The horse slowed as the rider turned to study them. Crowley tensed, ready to shoot.

The rider saw the gleaming arrow pointing at his chest. He slowly raised his hands in a friendly gesture.

Guiding his horse with his knees, he walked it over to them. His hair was long and greasy, falling over his shoulders. His eyes were bright specks of green, the only bit of him that wasn't dust covered and brown.

"Whoa, there," he said, flashing a small smile. "I'm no danger to you two,"

Halt eyed him with distrust. He saw a knife at the mans belt and a long bow over his shoulder. A hunter maybe?

Crowley slowly relaxed his arm, releasing the tension of his bow string. He kept the arrow aimed though.

There was a moment of awkward silence. None of them knew what to do next.

"What business do you have in Clifend?" Halt asked eventually.

"None," The man said.

"Look, boys," He said after another pause, "Don't go terrorising armed strangers. You could find yourself in serious trouble,"

"Thank you for your concern," Halt replied coldly.

"We can look after ourselves," Crowley added. He lowered the bow but left the arrow nocked and ready.

"You're a ranger?" the man asked, "An apprentice?"

"I am," Crowley confirmed.

"Where's your master?"

Halt saw the other boy stiffen in his saddle. He noticed the clenched jaw and narrowed eyes.

"That is none of your business," Halt told the stranger.

Crowley relaxed a little and mouthed a thank you in Halt's direction. The hibernian dipped his head in a reassuring nod.

"If you say so," the man shrugged. He leaned back in his saddle and glanced at the sun.

"Well, I can hardly leave you out here without any adults," He said, "You'll have to come with me. I'm Lukas, by the way."

"Why would we want to go with you?" Halt snapped at him.

"We're going to Castle Araluen," Crowley said at the same time.

"You think the guards will let you in?" Lukas said, "A couple of travel stained boys like yourselves?"

Halt and Crowley exchanged a glance.

"I don't see why not," The blond boy said.

"They won't," Halt sighed, "Not in a big castle like the king's,"

Lukas shrugged. "Well, if your sure. I have to go now, anyway. Someone has to deal with the dead bodies," her groaned.

"Dead bodies?" Halt asked.

"What?" Crowley exclaimed.

Bright green eyes stared at them both.

…...

Pauline slept fitfully, dreaming of the two boys who had been kicked out of the room. If they were to be believed, they had paid a gold coin for this room. Rosalee had got it free of charge.

She rolled over and stared at her mentors sleeping features. It wasn't fair. Other people had better lives than this. She knew that.

She leaned under the bed and quietly retrieved her diary from it's hiding place in her bag. She lit the lamp, carefully arranging the blankets and her body to limit the amount of light reaching Rosalee. She glanced over her shoulder at the courier.

For once, she didn't feel like writing about her mentor and Orhan. She chose instead to draw a simple picture of the boys. She drew them as she remembered them, the dark haired one furious and the other tugging on his arm.

She drew the baron, the lines on his face crinkled in a sneer. She couldn't decide whether to draw Lady Melaine as a good or bad character so she left her out.

She drew the battlemaster Carver and the two young knights. She left their faces blank, hiding their expressions under their helmits. Like Melaine, they seemed nice but couldn't possibly have missed her terror, could they?

She heard Rosalee stirring behind her. Pauline quickly blew the flame out and hid her diary under the bed.

"Pauline?" her mentor mumbled sleepily.

Pauline lay silently, holding her breath. She heard the courier shift and hoped Rosalee was turning over.

She counted to ten, then carefully placed the lantern back on the table between the beds.

Pauline thought she heard yelling outside the room but was too tired to listen. She let herself drift away from the world.

…...

Crowley covered his nose with his cloak. He felt like he was going to vomit.

Dead bodies littered the ground, covered in flies and blood. There were six of them, clearly a family.

Lukas glanced at the expressions on the boys' faces. "Yeah, it's pretty horrible," he said.

"Disgusting," Halt muttered. He nudged one of them with his boot. Dispite himself, curiosity was rising in him, threatning to keep him awake for nights if he didn't get answers. Maybe they could postpone the trip to Castle Araluen.

Lukas ran a greasy hand through his hair, "It's terrible," he agreed. For a moment, there was a look of utter sadness on his face. Then he straightened up and faced the boys.

"So, will you help bury 'em?"

Halt and Crowley exchanged a glance.

"I guess so," Halt said.

Crowley stared at the bodies, sickened.

"I'm going to throw up," he groaned.

Lukas shook his head, "don't be a wimp," he said.

He grabbed the shovel that was tied to his saddlebags.

"Go 'round back," He told the boys, "There'll be shovels there, surely,"

Halt led the way around the house. There was a small shed by a vegetable patch. He slid the door open, ignoring Crowleys whining, and found an assortment of tools.

"Here," he said, picking up a shovel. Crowley followed him reluctantly.

They joined Lukas who was busy digging in a patch of dirt sheltered by a large apple tree.

It wasn't a particularly hot day, but by the time they had dug a big enough hole to bury six bodies, they were all sweating.

"That'll do," Lukas leaned back, studying the hole.

Crowley swallowed, knowing what they had to do next.

Lukas strode over to the dead man and gripped his shoulders, lifting him awkwardly. Blood splattered on his already filthy shirt. It was just about unwearable now.

Halt reluctantly lifted the man's legs, helping to carry him to the hole. They dumped him in.

"You help too," Lukas said to Crowley with a frown. The blond boy wordlessly followed them to the dead bodies, his face pale.

Lukas lifted another of them, nodding to the apprentice ranger to help him this time. Crowley lifted the legs, but he couldn't look away from the face of the women they were carrying.

Her eyes so wide and desperate, yet so empty. Lifeless. Her mouth still open in a scream.

Oh god. He gritted his teeth. He would never forget the first time he saw a dead human. That time the skin had been blackened, burnt and blistered. The hair had been burnt off, exposing more damaged skin.

The expression had been the same. Only worse. Because Crowley had known the woman then.

Every emotion he had felt returned to him now. Every time he'd blamed himself, every time he'd been alone. It all returned to him.

It was Halt who saw it coming. He darted across the land without thinking and caught his friend as the apprentice fainted.

Lukas cursed as he was left with the full weight of the body. He dropped the woman and lifted the blond boy off Halt. He set him down in the shade with an irrtated snort.

"You'll have to help then, boy, c'mon,"

Together, they managed to bury the bodies. They said a few words over the grave and arranged stones in a circle so they would remember that was the grave.

"I'm gonna rest up here," Lukas said, glancing at the sun, "Stay with me."

As much as he didn't like to sleep in a home belonging to dead people, Halt was too tired to do anything else.

The house had one large room which was a kitchen and living room combined. There was a bathroom connected to it and a staircase up to the next floor. The second floor was made entirely of bedrooms. Lukas picked one with a large double bed. There were two more, one that had a girly feel to it. Halt choose the other one. It was more bed then room, with three beds crammed into a relatively small space.

Crowley, who was now awake from his fainting spell, joined him upstairs.

"We are absolutely not sleeping in a dead persons house!" he insisted. "It's a horrible-"

"You've been sleeping all afternoon," Halt interrupted him angrily and curled up in one of the beds.

Crowley reluctantly lay down on a bed and eventually, he too fell asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Halt woke when the morning sunshine hit his face. He groaned and rolled over, shading his eyes from the sun.

Crowley ignored him and continued to open all the windows. He was already dressed in his usual uniform, the grey and green mottled cloak distorting his figure.

"Rise and shine," he said cheerfully, taking a deep breath of fresh air. Halt groaned again and pulled the covers over his head.

"Oh, come on, where is your spirit!" Crowley said.

"I used it up yesterday when I had to help Lukas because you were sleeping," Halt muttered.

A hint of red touched the apprentice ranger's cheeks. "Uh, well, sorry 'bout that," he mumbled.

Halt stretched and reluctantly sat up. "To Castle Araluen, then?"

Crowley nodded, "Yes," he said then added, "But I'm getting breakfast first,"

He left the room, the door closing almost soundlessly behind him.

Halt closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Stay focused, he told himself, don't think of her. He'd dreamed of Hibernia again and all that he'd left behind.

He kicked the blankets off and rumaged through his pack for fresh clothes. He got dressed quickly and buckled on his belt and knife.

He eyed the shirt he'd worn the previous day with distaste. It was blood soaked and smelled of dead bodies. No way was he wearing that again. He tossed it under the bed, certain that no one would be living here for a while. Instead he found a fresh one in a wadrobe. It was much too big for him but he belted it around his waist and wore it like a tunic.

His amulet was in it's pouch, hidden under his bag. He didn't want any questions asked about it as he was sure he would break down if he had to talk about his family.

He hung the pouch around his neck, hiding it under his collar.

"Miss you," he murmered as he lovingly patted his treasure. "Do you miss me?"

Halt slung his bag over is shoulder and left the room, trying to shut the door more quietly than Crowley had. He thought he succeeded.

Lukas was sipping coffee, his feet resting on the table. Crowley was wolfing down food, swallowing before he had chewed it thoroughly.

Halt joined them and poured himself a cup of coffee from the pot in the centre of the table.

"Lot's of good food here," Lukas said, biting into an apple.

Halt shrugged. The food was okay, he thought. Simple though. Bread and honey, cheese, fruit, cold slices of meat. He guessed most of it was produced by the farm.

He spooned honey into his coffee. Crowley made a face at him.

"That's disgusting," he said through a mouthfull of food.

Halt raised an eyebrow.

"So who killed those people yesterday?" The hibernian asked. The question had been on his mind since he'd seen the bodies but he hadn't found the right moment to ask.

Lukas shrugged, "Who knows?" he said carelessly, "I was just passing through on my way to Clifend,"

Halt's eyes narrowed, "I thought you said you had no business in Clifend,"

Lukas looked at him in surprise, "I did say that," he said.

The two boys waited but he didn't say anything further.

Lukas stretched and rose from the table, "Well," he said, "I'd better get going,"

He nodded at Crowley, "I'll see you around,"

The apprentice ranger blinked, a little confused. Halt frowned thoughtfully.

Lukas strode over to his horse and set off at a gallop.

"There's something odd about him," Halt said softly.

"You don't think he killed those people, do you?" Crowley asked, eyes wide.

Halt's frown deepened. The thought hadn't occurred to him. It would explain how Lukas had seen the bodies. The hibernian recalled the previous day when the strange man had come galloping over the hills. Why hadn't he used the path?

"I don't know," Halt said. "He carries himself like a warrior, but I didn't see a sword,"

"He had a bow," Crowley told him. "A long bow,"

Halt shrugged, "So he hunts,"

Crowley leaned closer to the hibernian, his eyes glittering with exitement, "we should follow him,"

"Right, let's go," Halt agreed. He wasn't going to be able to sleep at night if he didn't get answers.

Crowley blinked, "What, now?"

"No time like the present," Halt threw on his cloak and hurried outside to saddle Dark.

…...

Pauline groaned softly as she was pulled from her dreams. She opened bleary eyes to stare at her mentor. Rosalee was leaning over her, her finger to her lips.

"Time to wake up," she said softly. Pauline automatically resisted and tried to bury herself under the covers.

"Don't be selfish, now," Rosalee tugged at the blankets. Pauline reluctantly sat up.

Orhan had his ear pressed to the door.

"Come on, Rose," he urged. "We have to go. Leave the girl,"

Rosalee seized Pauline's arm, dragging her to her feet. "No. If Melaine sees her, she'll know we're here. She comes with us."

Orhan glared at the apprentice. "Get dressed," he ordered severly.

Pauline threw on her courier uniform over her sleep clothes. Rosalee clicked her tongue a few times and dragged a hand through Pauline's tangled hair. The apprentice cried out as her mentor pulled at a knot.

"Shush!" Rosalee hissed. She glanced anxiously at the door. Orhan was still listening intently. He held up a finger for silence.

"A woman, a man and a girl," a voice from outside the door said. "You would have recognised them as couriers- they were dressed like me."

Rosalee cursed softly. Pauline tried to gather her thoughts on what was happening. Orhan leaped to his feet and grabbed her arms roughly. He tossed her over his shoulder like a bag of potatos.

Pauline squeaked in surprise. Orhan pinched her hard, causing tears to blur her vision. She pressed her face to his grubby jacket, trying not to be too afraid.

"Out the window," Orhan ordered, his voice no more than a harsh whisper.

Rosalee hesitated. Orhan charged past her, pushing the window open. He balanced on the windowsill, one arm still holding Pauline in place.

"If you value your miserable life, hold on tight," he instructed her.

Pauline wrapped her arms around his neck. Surely he wasn't going to climb down. That would be madness.

"Orhan.." Rosalee said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not going to.."

"Then stay here and distract the others!" he snapped at her. "I'll take care of our business,"

Rosalee blinked. He'd never told her what to do like that before. She didn't like it. As soon as she got the chance, that man would pay.

Orhan released the apprentice. Pauline squeaked again and held on tighter.

He swung out over the windowsill and started climbing down the wall. Pauline raised her head and glanced below her. It was a mistake. Her vision blurred with frightened tears. The only thing stopping her from falling was her arms around the shoulders of a man who hated her.

She hugged him tighter and pressed her face against his back. For once in her life, she didn't care that he smelled or that he hit her. She was just glad that it was someone as strong as him climbing down the castle wall.

She felt the tension leave his arms and shoulders and only then did she dare lift her head. They were safe on the ground once more. She released her hold on him and slid to the ground. Her knees had turned to jelly and she found herself unable to stand.

She glanced up at the window they had climbed from. Why? Why had they been so desperate to leave? Orhan had said he would take care of their business. That normally meant someone was going to get hurt.

She didn't have time to think on it. Orhan hauled her to her feet.

"Come on," he urged. He dragged her after him. Pauline stumbled but forced herself to jog after him. The morning sun was shining down and her sleep clothes were starting to itch. She wished she had had time to change.

They ran around to the stables. She waited while Orhan saddled his horse. He led it outside and swung onto it's back. He reached a hand down to her. Pauline reluctantly accepted the hand. He pulled her on. She shifted, trying to get comfortable, then gripped Orhan's jacket to hold herself on. She was determined not to hug him again.

He urged the horse into a gallop. Pauline watched the houses pass by. They rode out of the town and into the forest. She felt her heart pounding in her chest. Was Orhan going to hurt an innocent person? Normally he only did that when he was drunk or angry. At least, as far as she knew. Sometimes he and Rosalee would disappear for days.

They rode into a camp site with four tents set up. Orhan dismounted, striding towards one of the tents. Pauline awkwardly slid off the horse and stood uncertainly.

"Hey!" Orhan yelled. The tent flap opened and a man appeared. He was big, nearly as big as Orhan, with a large moustache and a sword at his hip.

He scowled when he saw Orhan, but also straightened up.

"You let a witness get away," Orhan snarled. "She was a girl. A harmless girl. How many people do you think she told?"

The man ignored the question, nodding his head at Pauline.

"You seem to have brought a witness with you," he said. Orhan glanced back at her with a frown.

"The girl won't tell a soul," he said, his eyes threatening her. Pauline gazed at the ground, wishing she was somewhere else.

At the sound of voices, three more men exited their tents. They stood silently watching.

"Unda, you have failed me," Orhan said, turning back to the man. He drew his hand back and slapped it across Unda's face.

Pauline winced as she heard the impact of fist on skin. She raised her head a fraction, not understanding what was going on.

Orhan hit Unda, over and over again. Sometimes on his face, sometimes his torso. Unda stood silently, waiting for the abuse to be over. His three companions watched, not one making a move to help him.

Finally, the beating was over. Orhan stood back.

"All five of us are going to find this girl and eliminate her," he said.

Pauline felt a chill creep up her spine, settling over her heart. Eliminate her. They were going to kill a girl. This went way past what they had done before. They called her a witness. A witness of what?

Were her mentors involved in something far worse than she had known? Pauline swallowed.

"Wha' abou' da' girl?" Unda asked through a swollen, bleeding mouth. He pointed at Pauline.

Orhan shrugged. "She'll have to come with us. It won't kill her."

Unda looked like he wanted to argue but after being beaten, he didn't dare.

Orhan screwed up his face in thought. "Okay," he said finally. "Here's the plan. We won't take any risks,"

Pauline felt sick. Five men against a girl. They all had swords so could kill her painlessly but she knew they wouldn't. They'd beat her to death.

"We're going to ambush her. You know where she lives, don't you Unda?"

Unda nodded. "I as'ed da menta all 'bout 'er. Dere's nofin' I dun know."

Orhan nodded, his beady eyes showing contempt at the way Unda could barely pronounce words. "My girl, Pauline will draw her out into the woods. We'll pick a spot and lie there in wait. When she comes.." he cracked his knuckles, a ghastly smile forming on his face. "We've got her surrounded,"

The men all laughed in delight. Pauline was stuck at the first sentence. She was to play a part in the murder. Horror filled her heart. She couldn't do it. She couldn't help them kill a girl.

But she already knew she would and it filled her with shame. She tried to keep her emotions off her face. That was one useful trick Rosalee had taught her.

It was like a dream. Her mind was so full of thoughts that it felt empty. It was like all her emotions cancelled each other out. She felt distant, like she was watching a story through a characters eyes. And she hated the character. The tall blonde apprentice courier who would do anything her mentors told her to do. Oh, she hated herself more than she hated THEM.

She followed silently as an ambush sight was picked. She nodded when they asked her if she could remember the spot. Unda and his men hid themselves behind trees and bushes. Orhan came with her to the girls house. He made sure she knew what to say then started running back to the ambush sight.

She stared at the door. Orhan had told her about the girl. Her name was Amy and she had recently been an apprentice cook at Castle Araluen. She had overheard Orhan carelessly talking about his plans. Unfortunately for her, Orhan had seen her and when she left, he got one of his men to ask about her. The girl knew she had overheard something inportant and so she ran away to return to Clifend to live with her mother. He said Amy was a dangerous witness who must be eliminated as soon as possible.

This was the first time that Pauline had ever been told that her mentors had more allies who helped them with their cruelty. She had suspected that Lady Melaine and the knights were with them but after the fuss THEY made to get away from them, she wasn't so sure. But surely there was no way anyone could have missed the threatening undertones and gestures THEY had made during the journey to Clifend.

Another thing on her mind were the "plans" that Orhan thought important enough to kill someone over. He hadn't told her anything about those.

Pauline was utterly and totally confused. She wished she had time to sit down and think about things. She thought of her diary still under the bed in the castle. She missed her little room in Catsle Araluen. It would have been comforting to be in that space that was hers and only hers.

She forced herself to block out her thoughts. If she didn't do this right, she would be beaten until she was black and blue. She could almost feel the faded bruises on her torso telling her to hurry up.

She summoned her best frightened expression and knocked on the door.

The door swung open and a woman stood in front of her. She was tense but relaxed a little as she decided Pauline couldn't do her any harm.

"I need to see Amy!" Pauline said, throwing a few nervous glances over her shoulder. The woman studied her for a moment before calling to her daughter.

"Amy!"

A girl walked over to the doorway. She was shorter than Pauline, thought that didn't mean much as the apprentice courier was tall for her age. Her hair was curly and dark, her eyes wide and fearfull.

"Amy!" Pauline said. "You have to get out of here!"

Amy stared at her. Pauline didn't think she would come with her. Pauline stank and her hair was so tangled she thought she might have to cut it.

"THEY are coming for you!" Pauline said, hating herself.

Amy and her mother exchanged fearful glances.

"How do you know?" Amy's mother asked.

Pauline hung her head. "They got me... they nearly killed me but I escaped! I heard them talking about you.."

"What can we do?" Her mother asked. Pauline tried not to show her surprise. They weren't really going to believe her... were they?

"We have to escape into the woods!" she said, gesturing vagually at the trees.

Amy nodded and donned her boots. Fear could make you believe anything.

"Please stay here," Pauline said to the mother. She could at least help one of them. "If you come with us they'll know we escaped. If you're here, they might think they made a mistake."

She saw the hesitation on their faces.

"They won't hurt you," Pauline added. "I know these people, they try to avoid bloodshed,"

Which was a complete and utter lie. But so was everything else she was saying.

Amy nodded. "Yes, mum," she said. "She's right,"

The mother nodded. "Be careful." She hugged her daughter and kissed her cheek.

Pauline felt tears building in her eyes. She ducked her head, automatically trying to hide them.

"Hurry!" She croaked. They mistook her sadness for fear and broke apart. With a final kiss, Amy hurried out the door. Pauline started running towards the forest. She heard footsteps thudding behind her as Amy followed.

They ran for a while. They were both panting for breath. Pauline heard a yelp from behind her. She spun around. Amy was sprawled on the ground.

"I tripped over that tree root,"she said. Pauline helped her up.

"Are you alright?" Which was a stupid question to ask.

Amy nodded and gave her a little smile. "Thank you." she said. "You went out of your way to find me so you could warn me. I am in your debt."

Then, of course, Pauline's shame stung more than ever. She blinked away tears.

"Come on," she urged and started running again. Amy ran beside her.

Pauline ticked off the landmarks as she ran. Even so, when they burst into a clearing, it took her by surprise. She had thought they were further away.

Amy looked around her. "It's a cleari-" her voice was cut off as armed men burst from the trees.

She gasped in horror. One man grabbed her and another hit her across the face.

Pauline stepped back. They didn't touch her. She stood there, a slim figure, shoulders slumped.

She saw Amy stare at her as another fist hit her. She saw the understanding on her face. She saw it turn to hatred.

Pauline knew Amy understood what she had done. She couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene playing out in front of her eyes.

She stood there in shame, frozen to the spot.

Amy was going to die. And Pauline had helped.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"He's gone," Crowley said, stunned.

"Gone? What do you mean?" Halt snapped, his eyes searching for marks on the ground.

For nearly an hour, Halt and Crowley had been tracking Lukas. The hibernian knew the basics of tracking and Crowley had been showing him extra things to look for.

Now, there was no sign that the strange man had ever existed.

"Maybe he's started covering his tracks?" the blond boy suggested.

Halt scowled. "What was that about being able to track anyone, no matter how hard they tried to cover their tracks?"

Crowley frowned. He vagually remembered saying something like that. Jarlon had always said he needed to stop being arrogant. Pain flared in his heart. It had been a while since he'd thought of Jarlon.

What was he doing following some stranger? He should be looking for the man who had become like family to him. The only family he had.

"Crowley?" he snapped out of his thoughts. Dark eyes were watching him with something like concern.

"Oh, but Lukas must be a really good tracker to be able to cover his tracks like that!" Crowley said, laughing his moment of sadness off.

Halt considered saying something more but decided against it.

"Well, what are we going to do?" he wondered aloud.

Crowley shrugged. "Go to Castle Araluen."

Halt stared at the ground devoid of tracks. He needed to find a future in this country and he wanted to become a ranger, like Crowley. Yet his instincts told him to keep trying. He touched the spot where his amulet lay hidden.

What would she want me to do? He asked himself.

_She smiled up at him, "But of course," she said. "Your instincts are really a wandering spirit whispering in your ear, trying to stop you from doing the wrong thing,"_

"I think we should ride in this direction for a little while," Halt said. "See if we can pick up his tracks later on."

Crowley shrugged. "If you like," he said. After all, they could always start riding to Castle Araluen when they could no longer find the tracks.

They rode on. It was somewhat slow progress as the horses had to avoid trees. Halt noticed that Crowley's horse, Swift, was very agile and could change pace almost instantly. Dark gradually started to fall behind and Crowley had to force his horse to go slower.

"Ready to turn back yet?" Crowley asked after a while.

Halt held up a hand for silence. He listened intently. He could just make out a faint crashing in the bushes and a high pitched noise that sounded uncomfortably like a scream.

He urged Dark into a gallop. Crowley did the same.

The two boys burst out of the trees and into a clearing. There was a moment of shocked silence as three large men turned to face them. One was holding a small girl in his arms. Halt recognised her curly dark hair and wide eyes. The girl from the inn, only now she was covered in ugly dark bruises.

There was another girl standing a way back. She was with the stupid people who had kicked them out of their room in the castle. Halt's face darkened at the memory. Still, there was something about the girl that stirred an interest within him. Her face was expressionless. It was like she was living in her own world. She turned towards him, her face not even twitching.

Crowley swung down off Swift. His bow was tied onto his saddle packs. He made a move to get it but one of the men snarled and ran towards him, brandishing a sword.

Halt leapt off Dark, drawing his knife.

"Couple of boys," One man laughed. "Goody, let's rough 'em up a little."

Crowley drew his two knives. He waited until the man was nearly on top of him and threw himself to the side, the sword harmlessly hitting the dirt. Halt darted behind the man, cutting him with his knife. The man hissed. It was a painful wound, but not nearly enough to kill him.

The other two men laughed and started towards the boys. The wounded man glared at them, hatred glowing in his eyes. One of the others placed a hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. All three men walked towards Halt and Crowley.

Halt held out his knife, dark eyes glittering with fury. Crowley looked a little less certain of himself, but stood his ground.

The men reached them and it was a desperate fight. Block, cut, block. Don't look at which man is attacking you, just react. Crowley blocked a stroke by crossing the knives, but that left him open for a different man to swing at his side. The apprentice ranger moved, cat like, away from the sword point. It sliced through his shirt, opening a shallow cut but not killing Crowley.

Halt had more trouble because he only had his small knife. He managed to deflect a few strokes but found himself retreating. Then his back hit the trunk of a tree and he realised with horror that he couldn't back away any more. The man swung the sword at him. Halt dropped to the ground. He rolled to the side.

A booted foot stopped his movement. The swordpoint speed towards him.

Then the man toppled forward. Halt struggled out from under him and saw the shaft of a grey arrow sticking out from the mans back. He glanced to where Crowley was still fighting two men. Similar arrows flew from the trees, killing the men instantly.

Lukas lowered the bow, running towards them. "Dammit!" he said angrily. "You shouldn't have followed me!"

Halt rose unsteadily to his feet. He looked to where the girl from the inn had been. There was no sign of her.

Lukas followed his gaze. "I saw her running." he said. He knelt down beside Crowley, studying the cut.

The other girl was still standing there, still as a statue. Halt walked over to her. She stared at him.

Lukas stiffened suddenly. He spun around.

A big man stepped out of the trees. He was the most ugly man Halt had ever seen, with a large, round nose that looked as if it had been broken many times and beady little eyes.

His face was twisted in hate. "I'll kill you all!" he yelled. "Every single one of you will die!"

Lukas reached for his bow. The man turned and ran into the forest. Grey arrows thudded against trees but the man got away.

A shudder went through the blond girls body. She started running after the man.

Halt grabbed her and held her back. "Don't," he said. "You're safe with us."

She struggled against his hold. Lukas beckoned them over.

"What's your name?" he asked the girl gently. She looked away and wouldn't say anything.

Lukas sighed, "She's a witness," he said. "I'll keep her safe. There is no way these people will let her live."

The girl shuddered and sank to the ground. Her face was still as blank as ever.

"You two," Lukas gestured to Halt and Crowley. "Get as far away as possible and do not get involved, got that?"

Halt frowned.

"No," the hibernian said. "I think we're already involved. That man wants to kill us as well."

Lukas glared at them. "You shouldn't have followed me," he said.

"Well, we did," Halt crossed his arms. "I want to know what is going on."

Crowley hesitated, but his curiosity was nagging at him. "I want to know, as well," he said.

Lukas shook his head at them. "You're both mad," he muttered. But he had to admit, he'd do the same thing in their position.

"Okay," he said finally. "Last warning. If you don't leave now, you'll have no more chances to back out."

Halt and Crowley exchanged a glance. They both nodded their understanding. Neither of them moved.

"Then let's find somewhere isolated to stay," Luaks said. "And I'll tell you all about it."

…...

It was a sombre ride. Lukas was still angry that they had followed him and rode on ahead. Crowley was silent, his face troubled.

Halt had to ride with the girl. She was seated in front of him, her back stiff and straight. He had to put his arms around her to guide the horse with the reins. It was difficult because the girl was a little taller than him and he had to lean to the side to see where they were going.

"Can you slouch down a bit?" he grumbled, annoyed. She stiffened even more, turning to face him.

He saw something in her eyes now, fear. Feeling awkward, he released the reins with one hand to pat her shoulder.

"It's fine now, you're safe." he said. She shook her head and mumbled something in a small voice.

"What was that?" Halt asked, leaning closer. Her hair was really soft, he thought. She spun back to the front, paused, then turned back.

"Run," she said softly. "Get away before THEY get you."

Halt frowned. "You mean that man from before?" he shook his head. "We took care of his men, we have him outnumbered now."

She shook her head and faced the front again.

"What's your name?" Halt asked.

She said nothing, just as she had when Lukas had asked her.

Halt shrugged. He'd just think of her as "the girl" then.

They broke away from the trees and into the countryside. Crowley urged his horse to catch up with Lukas.

"Lukas," he said quietly. The man turned to him with a smile.

"Yes?" he asked.

Halt caught up to them. Crowley glanced at him and stopped what he was about to say. He didn't know why. Instincts maybe?

"We're staying at that farmhouse aren't we?" he whined instead. "The house of dead people!"

Lukas frowned. "Now, now, that's no way to respect the deceased."

"That's a yes," Crowley muttered. "It's probably haunted."

Lukas shrugged. "Maybe."

The apprentice ranger blinked. "Aren't you going to say it isn't?"

Lukas shrugged again. "It probably is, but I don't think the ghosts would harm us. After all, we buried them."

Halt couldn't help a small grin. "We being me and Lukas, you didn't do anything."

Lukas nodded seriously, "That's right, I imagine the ghosts will devour you, Crowley."

Crowley laughed it off, but he did look a little worried. The girl had gone white as a sheet.

"You know ghosts don't really exist, don't you?" Halt whispered to her, sensing her fear.

She didn't answer.

They rode up to the farmhouse. A young man was standing by the house. He walked over to them.

"Um, hello?" he said. "Can I help you?"

Lukas hesitated. He dismounted, looking into the mans eyes.

"Do you, by any chance, live here?" he asked.

The man nodded. "I do, with my family. My name is John."

Lukas patted his shoulder. "Do you mind if we come in?" he asked.

John hesitated, then waved them towards the house.

Halt helped the girl down.

Lukas glanced back at them. "Boys, will you feed and care for the horses?"

John frowned. Lukas wrapped an arm around the young mans shoulders and led him indoors.

Halt watched them go. The girl was trembling.

Halt and Crowley fed the horses and brushed them until they shone. The girl stood slently with them.

"Do think that John person is a realitive of the dead family?" Crowley asked.

Halt nodded, "If he wasn't, why would he be in this house? I'm just glad Lukas is breaking the news to him. I don't think I ever want to have to tell someone their family is dead."

Crowley tossed the horse brush away, satisfied with his work. He slumped on a hay barrel, next to the girl.

"So," he smiled up at her. "What's your name?"

The girl ignored him. Crowley shrugged to himself.

"My name is Crowley. I'm a ranger!" he said cheerfully.

"An apprentice ranger," Halt put in, laying stress on the word "apprentice."

Crowley ignored him. "So what do you do for work?" he asked.

The girl watched him, her face devoid of expression.

The blond boy nodded several times, examining the label on her grubby dress. "A courier, huh?"

The door was pushed open. Lukas poked his head in.

"Okay, young John has agreed to let us stay in this house," he told them. "He's heading back to Clifend. He needs time alone to grieve."

Halt leaped off the hay barrel. "Tell us what is going on. Who were those men? Why are you here? Wha.."

"Why am I here?" Lukas interrupted indignantly. "Well, that's because someone insisted on sticking with me so I had to find somewhere safe to talk."

"That's not what I meant," Halt grumbled.

"Well then, perhaps if you come inside and make me some coffee, I might tell you." Lukas strode towards the farmhouse. Halt and Crowley followed eagerly, Crowley pulling the girl along with them.

Halt made coffee and they all sat down.

Lukas stretched, his cheerful face becoming more serious.

"First of all, there is something you might want to know. I think," he turned to Crowley, "that you may already have guessed this."

Crowley nodded slowly.

"I am a ranger, like your friend here. Ranger Lukas of a fief called Caraway."

Halt gasped. "Then you can train me!" he said in delight.

Lukas frowned, "You want to be a ranger?"

Halt nodded eagerly. Lukas made a dimissing gesture.

"We will speak of this later." he said. "Please allow me to continue."

"Years ago, the ranger corps commandant dug up a plot to kill the king."

Crowley leaned forward, his eyes wide. Killing the king was a big deal.

"Luckily, the plot failed but for two or three years we have been trying to find the culprit. Finally, we got a lead. By listening to rumours and peicing the clues together, we found who we were looking for. A former soldier called Orhan and a courier Rosalee. Coincidentally, their discription matched that of the leaders of a religious cult in Gallica. We were so close." Lukas sighed softly.

"Corps Commander Martin sent a ranger to deal with them. He tracked them, sending back regular messages of where they were going and what they were doing. We learned they were bribing and fooling some peasants to do their bidding, particularly big muscular farmers or bandits. The ranger sent to deal with them even found the camp. They don't have many people yet, even after all this time. A hundred or so. The ranger listened to their plans, hiding outside tents. They had only recently decided they needed more people. At first, they just tried poison and similar forms of murder. That failed, so they were forced to gather more people. Martin did warn the king but the king refused to belive him."

"The ranger found out that Orhan and Rosalee had got a new method of murder in mind, though he didn't know the details. Apparantly, once killing the king and his heir, the people who serve Orhan will start killing, sneaking into homes at night and such like. The leaders of this..this cult will stage it so that they are the only ones who can stop the murders. Since the royal family are dead, the throne will go to the one who the people favor most. And most of the nobles and soldiers will be too busy with trying to regain control of the country to care about the poorer people. So Orhan and Rosalee will "help" them and gain their favour."

"Now, I don't believe this plan will work, but it certainly is annoying. The ranger was heading back to tell us the details in person when we lost all contact with him. I was sent to investigate and found him dead. I searched and searched but couldn't find the camp. So we were back at square one. My job is to kill these people before they gain enough allies to put their plan into action."

A blanket of silence folded over them, Lukas's words fading into nothing.

"We've lost them now." Lukas said. "Let's keep a low profile for a while, okay?"

Halt nodded. He set down his empty coffee cup.

"We will stop them before your king is killed," he said, exitement buzzing through his veins.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Lukas laughed softly. "Glad to hear it. I'm sure our king will sleep better for that reassurance." His voice was light hearted. He was teasing the hibernian.

Halt shrugged, his face reddening. He didn't think he'd said anything wrong but it felt like he was being laughed at.

Crowley was sitting slumped in his chair. His eyes were fixed on Lukas. His mouth was a thin slit, twitching ever so slightly. He looked troubled.

"So," Lukas leaned forward. "You want to be a ranger?"

Halt nodded.

"Why?"

The Hibernian thought about it. "I need somewhere to belong," he said at last. "Also, I want to help people, those who aren't high enough in society for nobles to care."

Lukas cocked his head, chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully. "Why not become a knight?" he asked.

Halt's face darkened. "I have no wish to ever use a sword again," he said in a low voice.

He felt the girls pale blue eyes on him. They were still red rimmed from crying.

Lukas leaned over and patted her hand. She tensed immediately.

"Why not go wash up and get some rest?" he said gently. "At the top of the stairs to the left is a room that will be yours. That door over there," he gestured to the closed door, "is the washroom. Heat some water and take a bath, it might make you feel better."

The girl nodded, moving to do what she was told.

"Well?" Halt asked impatiently. "Will you train me or not?"

Lukas studied him for a moment then nodded. "I think it's a good idea. If we're going to go up against these people, it would be good if you had some ranger skills. Unofficial, as I need the corps commandant's permission before you truly become my apprentice."

Halt smiled. He could understand that. He'd just have to work hard so that the commander would accept him. He was taking his first step to a new life. It felt good, like he had more control now.

"You too Crowley," Lukas continued. The blond boy sat up, startled. "You're still an apprentice as well. If you will allow me, I will help further your skills."

Without a word, Crowley stood up and stomped off to the room he was to share with Halt. The hibernian frowned, puzzled.

Lukas waved it off. "I'll talk to him later. Come outside and we will get started."

He grabbed Crowley's bow that was leaning against the wall and started walking at a fast pace. Halt hurried to follow him.

They walked past the fields of crops. Lukas stopped, looking around.

"Perfect," he said. They were away from the house and shed, their backs to the fields of grain. Halt could just see the apple tree the grave was under, but they were too far away to make out the grave itsself. He made a mental note to visit it later.

Lukas handed Halt the bow. Halt took it. It was much like the bows he'd used back in Hibernia, though it felt stronger.

"It's a smaller version of my longbow," Lukas told him. "You won't be strong enough to handle a full longbow. This one isn't as strong but will serve it's purpose."

Halt had seen Lukas's longbow when he saved them from the bandits. There was no way he'd be able to use it. Halt was always a little self concious of his small size.

"Have you ever done archery before?" Lukas asked.

Halt nodded, "Back in Hibernia." His voice cracked as images of his home country flashed through his mind. He shook it off. Every time he got a wave of homesickness, it seemed to be getting easier and easier to recover.

"I was trained more with a sword but I used to go hunting with a few friends and family." he said, proud that his voice only wavered a little.

"Then let's see what you can do," Lukas pointed to a tree at the fringe of the forest. "See that one, the tall one with the light bark."

Halt nodded.

"Hit that one, please," Lukas said, crossing his arms.

Halt felt the rangers sharp green eyes studying his every move. He raised the bow, selected an arrow from the quiver Lukas had also brought, and slowly drew the string back. He narrowed his eyes and when he felt the feathered end of the arrow tickle his cheek, he released.

The arrow soared through the air, thudding into the side of the trunk. A centimetre to the right and he would have missed.

"Hmmm," Lukas said. "Not a bad technique."

Halt smiled, pleased that his days of hunting had paid off.

"Only, you have to shoot a little faster than that," Lukas continued. "A crippled old lady could have run around in circles four times, stood on her hands and kicked your shin before you released."

Halt glared at him. He glanced at the bristling arrow sticking out from the tree.

"I hit the tree," he grumbled.

Lukas grinned. "You did. All you need is practise."

He pulled two knives from his belt.

"You may have seen Crowley using knives like these," he said.

"Yes," Halt said. He took the knives from his new mentor.

"I'll make you a bow, but until your apprenticeship is official, you won't be getting these," Lukas said. "Just for the future though, these are rangers' knives."

He waved the big one at Halt. "This is called a saxe knife. Originally, they came from something called a sea axe, often used by the Skandians. Over the years, the words slid together to form the word saxe. The steel this is made of is incredible. Far better than any sword in Araluen."

"This other weirdly shaped one is a throwing knife."

"For throwing?" Halt interrupted.

"Yes," Lukas rolled his eyes. "That is why it's called a throwing knife."

"But I saw Crowley crossing them in an x shape," Halt frowned.

"Ah yes." Lukas smiled. "You are observant. For now, I want you to focus on other things. I'll show you that later. I don't want to flood your mind with new facts too soon or too fast."

Halt's frown didn't lift. "I want to know," he said, curiosity nagging at him.

"Good," Lukas chuckled. "That means you have the potential to be a good ranger."

"Huh?" Halt stared at the ranger, confused.

"Nevermind," Lukas said. "There is one more thing I want to show you."

He started striding back to the house.

"Lukas?" Halt asked, nearly running to keep up with the man's long stride.

"Yes?"

"Can we make targets to put on the trees?"

"Go ahead," Lukas shrugged.

They walked inside the farmhouse. Their bags were piled up by the door. Lukas dug through his and produced a neatly folded cloak. He handed it to halt.

"It might be a bit big," he said. "But keep it for now. It's a spare one of mine."

The cloak was spaceous and folded at Halt's feet. He hugged it closer to him, enjoying how the mottled pattern seemed to shimmer.

"Come on," Lukas led the way outside again. "I'll show you some neat ranger tricks."

Halt followed eagerly. It felt like years had passed since he stepped onto a foreign land for the first time, lonely and despairing. Now he had friends. He actually had friends.

He could feel his heart warming. It had been a long time since he'd been happy.

…...

Crowley lay on his bed staring at the ceiling. Lukas wanted to train him. Stupid ranger. He already had a mentor.

Jarlon had been there for him when his parents died. He had been the one who let Crowley live at his house. He had understood Crowley's feelings when no one else had. He had taught Crowley to smile again.

Now, Crowley had to repay the favour. He had to find his mentor before it was too late. Jarlon had made a mistake, that was all. He hadn't meant to leave the corps.

And if he had, then what? Would Crowley leave as well?

He couldn't answer the question. He didn't know what was more important. The corps or Jarlon?

Or his family. Were they watching him from the heavens now, jealous that he spent more mental energy on Jarlon than on them?

But that's not true, Crowley spoke to his parents in his mind, I spend all my sleeping hours thinking of you.

He rolled over and buried his face in his pillow. He heard light footsteps climbing the stairs. The girl must be returning from her bath. He heard her door creak open then shut with a soft click.

He brushed a few tears from his face. Thinking was too painful. Crowley listened for any sound the girl might make but he couldn't hear any. He listened to the birds twittering in the trees. It would be nice to be a bird, he thought.

His door swung open.

Crowley leaped up in shock, wiping the last drops of water from his cheeks.

Lukas stood in the doorway. He'd forgotten Lukas was a ranger, capable of moving without a sound.

Crowley realised he was standing on the bed poised for a fight. He relaxed, dropping to a sitting position.

Lukas closed the door. He sat down on the bed beside the apprentice.

"Look Crowley," he said. "I'm not stupid. I know you were Jarlon's apprentice and I know you have to forget him."

Crowley shook his head furiously. He moved to get up but a strong hand held him down.

"Jarlon quit the corps. That was his decision. Martin spoke with him and couldn't stop him leaving."

Crowley shook his head again, his throat feeling to clogged with emotion to speak. He doubted the corps commandant had said the right things. Crowley was the only one who could persuade him.

The ranger saw the thoughts flashing through Crowley's eyes.

"You ran away. Martin has been trying to find you. Everyone is worried about you! Jarlon isn't the only one who cares, Crowley, you're one of us whether you like it or not!"

Crowley blinked, stunned.

"You don't know Jarlon like I do. He was my friend. You don't know what he went through." Lukas had tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He blinked them away.

"I thought that maybe getting an apprentice would be good for him," Lukas continued. "But nothing could have stopped him leaving. Nothing. It was only a matter of time."

Crowley stared at his hands. For one second, just one, he felt like he could forget Jarlon. For one moment he felt like the Crowley of old, the Crowley before his parents died.

Then all his emotions came flooding back.

"Let me teach you. You can practise with Halt and then, when this is all over, I'll go with you to find Jarlon," Lukas watched the apprentice. Crowley slowly raised his head and met his eyes.

"Alright," the apprentice murmered.

Lukas stood up.

Crowley watched Lukas leave.

_He was my friend._

_Was my friend._

_Was._


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Halt woke to a scream. Deja vu, he thought to himself as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. For a moment, he was tempted to ignore Crowley. If he curled up with the pillow over his head, maybe he wouldn't hear the screams.

Halt groaned, knowing that he was kidding himself. He slid out from under the covers, the cold stinging his bare limbs. He treaded softly over to Crowley's side of the room.

Remembering the last time he'd tried to wake his friend up, Halt gripped Crowley's wrists, pushing them down on the mattress.

"Wake up," he hissed, trying to shake the other boy while not letting go of his wrists.

Crowley tensed suddenly, pushing back against Halt in a vain attempt to break free of the hold that pinned him to the mattress. Halt saw his eyelids flutter then open as the apprentice ranger fully awakened.

Crowley relaxed, blinking away the tears in his eyes. Halt released his wrists and sat down on the bed.

"Another nightmare?" Halt asked softly. He couldn't see his friend clearly, only a darker shadow in the night. But he didn't need to see Crowley clearly to know that was the case.

Halt looked down at the dark outlines of his hands. "Someone very dear to me once said that if you talked about your troubles, you would feel better for it," he said. He said it clearly, without the slightest falter in his voice. He still missed her, but he was learning to cope with his feelings.

"I don't want to talk," Crowley said. There was a rustling sound as he rolled over, pulling the blankets up higher.

Halt shrugged to himself. "Alright then," he huffed. "Good night."

"Night."

Halt went back to his bed, burying himself under the thick blankets. He relished the warmth that embraced him, coaxing him to sleep.

He slept.

…...

Pauline woke to the sunshine on her face. It was uncomfortably warm under the blankets and she kicked them off.

It felt like she was drowning in thoughts. Rosalee would punish her when THEY found her. Pauline had tried to follow Orhan but the dark haired boy named Halt had held her back.

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Maybe, just for today, she could pretend that these people weren't going to die. She could pretend that they would be friends.

Pauline stood up and walked over to the wadrobe. She gripped the wooden handle, swinging the door open. With a soft sigh, she let her fingers trail over the assortment of clothes inside.

The clothes of the girls who had been killed. She had seen them die. Now here she was, invading their personal space.

It was a horrible thing to wear the clothes of the dead. But her couriers gown was dirty and stank of sweat. She picked out a dress made of soft fabric. It was a light blue colour with flowers embrodered in silver thread. Pauline traced one of the flowers with her finger. It was a little uneven, sewed with an unprofessional hand. Probably, the farmer's daughter did it herself.

Pauline changed into the dress. She felt terrible for wearing it but did it anyway. Just like she found the girl's hair brush and brushed her blonde hair until it shone.

She took one last look around the room. It seemed smaller than it was because there were two beds crammed into it. Still, it was cozy enough and even reminded her of her room back in Castle Araluen.

She sighed, trying not to be too overwhelmed. Her head was spinning with troubles and thoughts. Dont think, she told herself, thinking is too painfull.

She stepped out into the hall and found herself face to face with the hibernian boy.

She watched as his dark eyes looked her up and down.

"You look nice," he said, a little awkwardly. Pauline felt a blush heat up her cheeks. She ducked her head, hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Thank you," she murmered, realising how long it had been since someone gave her a compliment.

Halt didn't say anything. She started hurrying towards the stairs, half running. She regained herself when she reached the bottom of the stairs. She felt stupid now, running away like that. Why was she so embarrassed?

The other boy, Crowley, was sitting in a comfy looking chair, watching her with wide eyes.

"What's up with you?" he asked, his lips twitching in a smile.

Pauline shook her head. She heard the stairs creaking behind her.

"What did you do to her Halt?" Crowley laughed.

Halt glowered at him. "I didn't do anything, she just-"

"Looks like you did something to me," Crowley interrupted. "You look nice, by the way," he added, turning to Pauline. "Coffee?"

Pauline brushed a few strands of hair out of her face, trying to calm herself. She had to stop thinking and focus on what was happening right in front of her. Otherwise she'd be caught by surprise like that again.

"Yes, please," she said softly. "I would love some coffee."

"She speaks!" Crowley cried, throwing his arms out in a dramatic gesture. He bounded over to the coffee pot, pouring three cups of coffee.

Despite herself, Pauline felt a small smile pulling at her lips.

They sat down at the table, sipping the warm drink.

"Where's Lukas?" Halt asked. Pauline found herself looking around the room, in case he might suddenly appear.

"He's checking out the tracks from yesterday." Crowley shrugged. "I would have gone with him but my time is much better spent with a beautiful girl."

Heat rose in Pauline's cheeks again. She choked and spluttered on the mouthful of coffee.

Halt cocked his head, regarding his friend.

"So, you're feeling better then?" he asked.

A dark shadow crossed Crowley's face and Pauline realised that he wasn't as cheerful as he acted. Then the moment passed and he was laughing once more.

"Oh please, course I'm feeling better. I feel great!" Crowley laughed. Halt seemed satisfied but Pauline saw the truth in the blond boy's eyes.

She leaned back in her seat, regarding the two boys. She liked them. They were enemies of her mentors and she didn't have to guess the reason behind everything they said. They didn't know of the punishments or the beatings that she suffered through. When she was with Lady Melaine, she knew the courier was on her mentors "side." With these boys, it felt like she wasn't all alone on her "side."

"Pauline," she said. They both looked at her. "My name is Pauline," she elaborated.

They smiled at her. Friendly, warm, genuine smiles.

She smiled back.

…...

Lukas wheeled his horse around sharply.

"Dammit," he muttered. "Lost them." The tracks the surviving man had left when he ran away were clear enough to follow at first. But he had returned to Clifend and Lukas couldn't be sure what scuffs in the road belonged to him.

It was unlikely that the man was still in Clifend. The dark haired girl who had escaped might have alerted the baron and it would be dangerous to sta in the fief if that were the case. Most likely, they would wait for the commotion to die down then return to kill the winissess.

They would come back. In the mean time, Lukas would stay in the farmhouse with the youngsters.

Which was another reason he cursed to himself now. Because he had opened his big mouth and told them he was a ranger. Then he had gone so far as to train Halt. He had no plans to ever get an apprentice. He didn't want a young person nipping at his heels while he dealt with dangerous enemies.

That was bad enough. But oh no, he couldn't stop there. He followed his instincts and spoke to Jarlons former apprentice. Thinking of his old friend, he offered to train the boy.

Lukas groaned. He'd gotten himself not one, but two unofficial apprentices. Plus there was the mute girl.

He shook his head as he galloped back to the farm house. He watered and bedded down his horse and stomped into the house.

The three youngsters looked up as he entered.

"Guess what Lukas!" Crowley said with a grin. "She said her name was Pauline."

Lukas flopped down in a chair, regarding the girl with a practised eye. Halt poured him a cup of coffee.

"We'll be staying here for a while," Lukas said, watching Pauline closely. "They will send people after us to kill us. Then we will get them to lead us to the leaders. In a cult like this, once the leaders are dead the whole structure collapses."

Pauline's face twitched but she masked her emotions. Lukas mentally shrugged.

"How will we force them to tell us the way to the leaders?" Halt asked.

Lukas waved the question off. "Interrigate 'em, follow 'em, endless ways really."

"If you say so," Halt said doubtfully.

Lukas sipped at his coffee. "Don't doubt me, Halt, I have some ideas."

Crowley swung his camoflage cloak around his shoulders.

"Want a compitition, Halt?" he asked. "Hide and seek?"

Halt nodded, a determined look in his eyes. "I can never miss a chance to win against you."

Crowley patted his friends shoulder. "Aww, you mean you actually think you can beat me? Poor deluded Halt."

Anger flashed in the hibernians eyes. "I can beat you any day, any place, at any challenge!" he snapped.

Crowley smiled provocatively. "Yes, yes, sure you can," he turned to the others and whispered, just loud enough for Halt to hear, "Humour him."

Halt grabbed his friend by the collar, dragging him outside.

Lukas shook his head at them. He sipped at his coffee, still wondering how the situation had come about.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12**

Pauline sat in the shade, enjoying the fresh air. At any moment she expected to see her mentors burst from the trees, their faces screwed up in fury. It never happened.

She had tended to the horses, brushed the floors, washed the dishes. Days had flown by and still there was no sign of her mentors. She spoke with Lukas, Halt and Crowley. She learned their likes and dislikes, their moods and how to read their expressions.

There was a warm feeling growing in her heart. Every smile that was coaxed from her lips, every time one of them said kind words to her, the feeling grew stronger. She wondered if that was happiness.

One night, when they were all sitting by the fire, Halt told a Hibernian legend. It was a gripping tale of loyalty and love. When he spoke, his eyes were glittering in the fire light and Pauline thought she saw that warm feeling there. She saw it in Lukas too, when he laughed and teased the Hibernian.

She wondered if that feeling was in her eyes. She hoped so. When she saw it in them, it made her feel good. It stole away her worries, if only for a little while. There were the dark moments of course. When a seriousness over took them. When Lukas rode away to search the town, to seen if her mentors had returned.

Those were the times when the fear came. When she felt like she was drowning. She knew that one day soon, her mentors would come for her and the precious warmth would be taken away from her.

Halt had bad days as well. Sometimes, he would sit, staring at nothing, saying as few words as possible. Pauline wondered if he was thinking of Hibernia. She could understand that, as he was very far from home.

Pauline shifted to a more comfortable position, leaning against the trunk of a tree. She wished she had something to draw with, but her diary and inks were still in the inn.

She sighed softly. Everything was so simple, yet so complicated. There was so much she didn't know about these people. Interacting with them was easy, words dripped from her tongue without thought. But understanding them, that was a different matter.

Crowley, especially, was a puzzle to her. He was always laughing and smiling, always joking around. She had never once seen him angry or upset. It was like he didn't care about anything, like life was a game.

She knew it wasn't like that though because she not once had she seen the warmth in him. His eyes always looked distant, like he was thinking of another place or time.

He was... fake.

Pauline stretched and rose to her feet. She didn't want to lose the warm feeling. She had to keep her thoughts optimistic.

If she lost the happiness, she would be back with THEM. She would feel nothing but misery.

She walked slowly towards the apple tree. Where the trunk met the ground, there were stones arranged in a circle. She knew that was the grave. The grave where those poor farmers had been buried.

Pauline bowed her head. Forgive me, she begged, I hated them as much as you did.

"Pauline."

She spun around, startled. Lukas stood barely a metre away. It was uncanny how he could move without making any noise. She swallowed. He was staring at her, his green eyes peircing.

He knelt down in front of the grave. She sat beside him.

"Is there anything more you can tell me about...?" Although he didn't say their names, Pauline could feel them hanging in the air.

"No," she said stiffly. She didn't want to talk about them. If she did, she was afraid the happiness would disappear.

"Who were they to you?" Lukas asked gently.

"My mentors," she could feel the warmth disappearing.

"Did they hurt you?"

She was in the room again, fists slamming into her torso, never her face. Her arms and legs were cut and bleeding. She felt the cold steel of the knife brushing against her skin, whispering a threat to her. She felt the lonliness weighing her down, the acceptance that this was life.

The happiness was gone now. Washed away by the fear.

"Yes," she said softly, a sob rising in her throat. No more warmth, no more happiness. It was over.

She leapt to her feet, tears filling her eyes. Lukas grabbed at her arm, holding her back.

"Hey, hey, calm down," he said. Pauline felt hatred rising up in her. This man had taken her happiness away. He was just as bad as THEM!

"I hate you!" she screamed, unable to see his expression through her tears. "I hate you! I hate them! I hate everyone who wouldn't help me! I want to be happy! I hate my parents! They rejected me, they gave me away to THEM!"

Her hate and fury, her sadness and pain came flooding out of her mouth. She felt the hand on her arm tighten, not allowing her to leave. She vagually realised that Halt and Crowley had come running to see what was wrong.

Lukas held her arm until she had run out of words. Her body shook with huge sobs, her throat was aching from the screaming.

"I think," Lukas said, with nothing but kindness in his voice, "that the person you hate the most is yourself."

Pauline wrenched her arm away, running back to the house. Lukas let her go.

She ran up the stairs and threw herself onto her bed. She hated them, she hated them all.

_The person you hate the most is yourself. _

She was the one who did whatever Rosalee said. Had she really tried to save anyone? Sure, she had warned them but not once did she ever try to escape. She had led Amy to the ambush site, thinking that she had to. Now, she wondered why she had thought that. Would things have been different if she had disobeyed?

The past few days had shown her what life was like for other people. It had shown her that her life didn't have to revolve around her mentors. She could fight them. It was an intense feeling of freedom. And with that freedom came the guilt and the self hatred. She had gone along with whatever they said, without a single thought of rebellion.

She curled up on the bed, crying. She remembered now. She remembered that she had felt the warmth before, a long time ago.

"_Come on Pauline!" the laughing face turned to her. "Hurry!"_

_Pauline stumbled, tripping on a tree root. For a split second she was flying through the air, then strong arms lifted her up._

_Pauline squeeled. She twisted to see the strong bearded face. _

"_Daddy!" she cried_ _happily. "You saved me! I tripped, see the root!"_

"_Yes, I know," her father chuckled. "After all, a noble knight cannot let his precious princess suffer!"_

"_Noble knight? Precious princess?" Pauline's mother laughed. "So what am I?"_

"_You my dear," Her father lifted her onto his shoulder, holding her in place with one muscular arm, "are the most beautiful woman in the world!" He kissed his wife lovingly. _

"_Eeeeew!" Pauline whined. Her parents laughed. _

Pauline didn't know what to feel anymore. She didn't know why her parents had sold her to Rosalee. All her memories of them were happy ones, but if they got rid of her there had to be another side to it. So over the years, she had twisted her memories around, trying to make them bad. Yet there were still moments like this, when she remembered something with sudden clarity.

She wished she had been older when she was sold. She had only been seven years of age and so hadn't really understood what was happening. One moment she was happy. The next she was being told by a strange woman with cold eyes that her parents had sold her for money.

Pauline rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling, tears falling from her eyes. All this time, she had been doing only what others told her. It wasn't THEM she hated. It was herself.

Now she realised that, everything was clearer. She had emerged from the fog into the sunny day.

And she forgave herself. She forgave herself because she could see clearly now. She would give herself a chance to do the right thing.

I forgive you Pauline, she told herself, as long as you try your hardest to be the best person you can be.

There was a knock on the door. She glanced up. Halt stood awkwardly, tapping the open door. She had forgotten to close it in her grief.

"It was my fault," she said to Halt. "The farmers and Amy and all the others. I could have done something to save them but I didn't."

Halt looked awkward. He crossed the room and sat beside her.

"It wasn't your fault," he said. "Rosalee and Orhan were the ones who..."

"No, you don't understand!" Pauline grabbed his shoulders, interrupting him. "It was my fault. I CHOSE to do what they said. I could have said no but I didn't!"

"You-"

"I can do what I want to! It was all my decision! I don't want to follow them anymore so I won't. I don't have to!"

Halt blinked, red dusting his cheeks. Pauline suddenly realised how close they were and she pulled back.

Tears were still falling from her eyes. She didn't mind. Her freedom was a sad thing as well as happy. From now on, she would take the full blame for all of her decisions. Rosalee couldn't control her.

"Leave me alone now," she said. She wanted some time to herself. Halt, looking utterly perplexed, left the room.

She cried softly, grieving for all the wasted years of her life and all the people who had been harmed during those years. As the sun began to set, she wiped away her tears and joined the others for dinner.

Lukas had set aside a plate for her. He handed it to her and she ate enthusiastically.

During the meal, she felt Halt's dark eyes on her. She looked up and gave him a smile.

"Halt, remember when you and the others saved Amy and killed those men?"

Halt looked uncertain. "Yes," he said, not sure where the conversation was going.

"I was about to run off after Orhan but you stopped me," Pauline said.

Halt shifted in his seat. "I remember," he said. Pauline nearly laughed at his discomfort. Obviously he was wondering if she wanted to go back to her mentors.

"Thank you," Pauline said sincerely. The Hibernian blinked in surprise, then his face softened and he smiled.

Lukas coughed for attention. "The surviving man was Orhan?" he asked.

Pauline nodded. She had forgotten that they had never seen Orhan before.

Silence fell over them. Pauline could see that they were trying to recall what the man had looked like. She stood up and started clearing away the plates.

The warm feeling was stirring in her heart again. For the first time, she realised that happiness didn't come and go. It had always been there, hiding in the darkest part of her heart, waiting for a chance to emerge. It didn't matter how much she cried or how little she laughed, the warmth would always return to her.

She took the dishes outside and started washing them in the stream.

Not because she had to. Because she wanted to.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Hiiissss-thwack

Halt lowered the bow, examining the targets with fierce satisfaction. All of the arrows were clustered around the inner ring, except for a couple on one of the more distant targets. He strolled over the field to collect his arrows.

It was late afternoon and the sun was shining it's lazy warmth on him. He could feel the weight of his amulet resting against his chest. Over to his left, Crowley and Lukas were practising with knives.

Halt didn't yet own a saxe knife or throwing knife. He practised with Crowley's but had to content himself with his bow.

And he was content. He loved his bow, even if it wasnt as powerful as the longbow owned by Lukas. He also loved to sneak around in the bushes, trying to scare his friends. So far, he hadn't managed to sneak up on Lukas, but he'd caught Crowley by surprise a few times and Pauline was an easy target.

Halt put the last arrow back in his quiver. He stretched and glanced at the sun. Still a few more hours of daylight. More than enough time to empty his quiver once more.

But Lukas gestured for him to stop.

"Let's take a break for a while," he said. "I might go down to Clifend, see if there's any trace of them yet."

There was no need for Halt to ask who "they" were. It had been nearly a month since Halt and the others had started living in the farmhouse. Lukas was expecting Orhan to show his hand soon.

Crowley sheathed his knives. "Can I come too?"

Lukas nodded. "Yes. Halt, stay here with the girl. You have your dagger?"

Halt nodded, touching the scabberd at his hip. He might not own a saxe, but he still had his dagger from Hibernia. Even if it was smaller and not made from the best steel, it was a comfort.

"Expecting trouble?" he asked.

Lukas shrugged. "It never hurts to be prepared."

"I guess you're right there," Halt agreed.

"There's no guessing about it," Lukas told him. He spun on his heel and started striding towards the stable, Crowley hurrying after him.

Halt followed at his own pace, stepping up onto the veranda where Pauline was dozing in the sun.

She opened one eye as he sat beside her.

"Hello," Halt said, not sure what to say. He hadn't had a lot of experience with girls.

"Hello back," Pauline said, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. Halt was glad to see some expresssion on her face. Over the past few days, her blank sheild had slowly fallen away.

"Lukas and Crowley are going to Clifend," he told her.

Pauline stretched, cat like. "You aren't going with them?"

Halt shifted position, enjoying the sun on his face. "Lukas wanted me to stay here, in case something happens."

"Hmmm, so you don't think I can look after myself?"

Halt glanced at her in surprise, taking in her grin. She was very pretty when she smiled, he thought.

"You're getting good," Pauline said, nodding towards the bow that was slung over his shoulder.

Halt shrugged her praise off, "Not too badly," he said. "Crowley's better."

"Yes, but from what I hear, Crowley has been training for almost a year. You only started a month ago," she said.

Halt couldn't prevent a small grin breaking through. To be honest, he was rather proud of the progress he was making. Of course, it helped that he'd had some experience in Hibernia, with hunting and sneaking around and such like.

"You're from Hibernia, right?" Pauline asked in the tone of one who already knows the answer.

Halt eyed her warily, not sure where this was going. "That's right," he said.

She seemed to be weighing up whether to say more or not. She sighed softly and Halt was suddenly compelled to tell her more.

"I miss my home, but at the same time I don't," he said, surprised at himself. He realised as he said it that it was true.

Pauline stared up at the clouds. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean," she said slowly. "I never liked being with Rosalee and the others so I can't say I miss them. It just... feels weird, now that I don't obey them."

Halt touched her hand lightly. "What about your parents?" he asked.

Pauline thought deeply for a few seconds. "They sold me to Rosalee when I was young," she said. "My memories of them are happy but blurred. I can't remember their faces anymore. I guess I don't miss them so much as wish for a happy family."

"They sold you?" Halt repeated, a look of horror crossing his face.

Pauline sighed, "I don't know, I can't remember. That's what Rosalee told me."

Halt stared at the girl. He heitated. "If I may ask, what exactly did these people do to you? Did they beat you?"

Pauline turned her head to look at him, unshed tears glistening in her eyes. In a low voice, she told him about being beaten, about the long nights that she would curl on her bed, bruises covering her body. About one particularly bad time when her rib was cracked.

Halt listened in silence. He vowed to kill the people who had done such horrible things to his friend.

…...

Lukas and Crowley rode side by side through the forest. It was a pleasant ride. The forest was alive with animals, birds twittering, squirrels darting over branches. The sun peeped through the tops of the trees, lighting up the ground in patches, before the shadows of the forest darkened the ground.

Pleasant as the ride was, Crowley had different reasons for coming along. He had something he wanted to discuss with Lukas, something he hadn't wanted to talk about in front of the others.

He wasn't sure how to raise the subject, so he stayed silent for a while, thinking over the best starting line. The job was done for him when the ranger turned to him.

"Something on your mind?" Lukas asked.

Crowley started, jerked out of his thoughts. He glanced at the ranger, couldn't bring himself to meet the man's eyes, and examined the reins.

"You said you were a friend of Jarlons," the apprentice said softly.

Lukas nodded. "I was, yes."

"But.." Crowley hesitated, not certain he wanted to know. But curiosity was too powerful a force to refuse and he took the plunge. "But you aren't friends anymore?"

Lukas shifted in the saddle. "No," he said. "Jarlon and I are no longer friends."

Crowley frowned. "Because he quit the corps?" he asked. "You don't need to worry about that, I'm going to find him and he'll realise he's made a big mistake! He'll come back and it will all be like it was before. You-"

"The reason isn't because he quit the corps," Lukas interrupted.

Crowley stopped, still frowning.

"The Jarlon you know and the Jarlon I know aren't the same people," the ranger said, so softly that Crowley nearly didn't hear.

"It happened four years ago," Lukas said. "Before he met you."

"What happened?" Crowley breathed.

"It was a simple task. All he had to do was escort a noble to a meeting in Hibernia. Jarlon spent the day before he left joking and making light of the whole thing."

"A courier went along too, to help with the meeting. The courier happened to be Jarlon's much loved wife of ten years. The two were inseperable."

Crowley swallowed and gripped the reins tightly. He could see how this was going to end, as he'd never known Jarlon to have a wife.

"It went fine, until they reached Hibernia. Then, the noble turned on them, soldiers emerging from buildings. Jarlon and his wife were captured and thrown in prison. Turns out, the noble was acually the leader of some cult that Jarlon had chased out of Araluen some years back."

"Why didn't he recognise the cult leader?" Crowley asked.

Lukas glanced at the boy. "We don't remember every single jumped up bandit we have to scare away, you know."

Crowley thought about that, then nodded his understanding. His mouth opened to ask another question.

"Do you want to hear the story or not?" Lukas said impatiently.

Crowley nodded, gesturing for the ranger to continue.

Lukas gathered his thoughts, his eyes misting as he revisited the past.

"Jarlon watched while his wife was beaten and tortured. She screamed and pleaded for mercy but no one cared. She was bruised all over, cut nine times and died of bloodloss the next morning. Then it was Jarlon's turn."

Lukas paused, seeing the sickened expression on the apprentice's face. The ranger rubbed at his eyes, hearing the broken voice from four years ago, telling him in detail every cruel thing that had been done to them. For Crowley's sake, he'd keep it brief.

"Jarlon was beaten but he wasn't killed. The beating wasn't even too severe, but that just made it worse for him. His head was clear and focused when his wife died and he shared a cell with her dead body for nearly a month before we found him."

Crowley knotted the reins, twisting them. He felt oddly betrayed. For nearly a year he had thought he'd known Jarlon. He realised now that all he'd known was a shadow of a once great man.

"Jarlon has never been able to smile since," Lukas said sadly. "Our friendship faded away. I couldn't bear to be around him anymore, he made everything seem so sad."

The ranger turned to face Crowley. "So you can imagine my surprise when I heard he'd taken on an apprentice," he said.

Crowley had no answer to that.

Lukas studied the boy beside him. He could see the apprentice had a lot on his mind. Early tommorrow he would ride back alone, get breakfast in the inn, and see how much information he could gather. For now, Crowley probably needed some time alone to let things sink in.

"Why?" Crowley said suddenly. "Why did he take me on as an apprentice?"

Lukas sighed deeply. "I don't know, Crowley. Maybe he was hoping for a distraction."

Crowley's shoulders slumped. "A distraction?" he repeated.

"Or maybe not," Lukas said quickly. "No one really understood Jarlon's feelings."

"Do you think," Crowley hesitated, afraid of the answer. "Do you think he'd rejoin the corps if I asked him?"

Lukas swung his horse around, leading the way back to the forest. "Maybe," he said. "But I think the pressures of being a ranger might be too much for him to handle in his grief. I think we should let him find new happiness in a different life."

Crowley nodded slowly. "Yes, I can understand that."

The ranger and the apprentice rode back to the farm house, oblivious to the eyes that watched them from the shadows.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

_Hot, so hot. He was screaming, over and over again. His fingers desperately trying to unlatch the window, sliding and shaking. He was sobbing, chest heaving sobs but the heat was too intense for tears. Orange flickered at the edges of his vision. A weight fell against him. He looked down. The face stared up at him, blank unseeing eyes, skin burnt. He screamed again, torn between pushing the body off him or holding it close..._

_He reached for the window again but charred black hands grabbed his wrists, pulling him back. He twisted in the grip, staring at the dead face. The cracked lips parted, hissing at him._

"_Why you?" he knew the dead couldn't talk and that this man was dead, but the dead man didn't seem to know that. _

"_Why should you have to live?"_

_He twisted and writhed in the grip, sobbing desperately. He couldn't breath properly. The window was right there but he couldn't escape. He shouldn't escape. He didn't have the right to live when the others were all..._

"Wake up, dammit!"

His eyes flew open. Halt was leaning over him, pinning his wrists to the bed covers.

Crowley swallowed, his cheeks wet with tears.

Halt released him. He felt the bed dip as his friend sat down.

"Crowley, please. You can't keep having nightmares every night," Halt said.

Crowley rubbed his face. He peered up at Halt's shadowy form.

"Sorry," he muttered. Did the hibernian think he was purposely having nightmares? He couldn't just decide to stop having nightmares. If he could, he would have done it a year ago.

_Why should you have to live?_

He closed his eyes, pain tearing at his heart. "Go to sleep," he told Halt.

He heard Halt's frustrated sigh. To his relief, the hibernian returned to his own bed. Crowley buried his face under the covers, pretending to sleep.

He lay, half awake, half asleep until he could see his hand in front of his face. Then he kicked off the blankets and headed downstairs to prepare breakfast.

To his surprise, Lukas was already awake. He had his back turned to Crowley and was rummaging through the pantry for bread and cheese. He turned around to face the apprentice.

Crowley gave him a smile. "Morning, Lukas," he said cheerfully.

Lukas crossed his arms, leaning back against the bench.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

Crowley shrugged the question off, but the ranger refused to let the matter drop.

"No, you didn't," Lukas said. "And neither did any of us."

Crowley ignored him, measuring coffee into the pot. "Coffee?" he asked brightly.

"It's been a month, Crowley. Every night we wake up to your screaming. It has to stop."

Crowley slowly set the coffee beans down. "It's none of your business," he said.

"Of course it's our business," Halt said, striding down the stairs to join them. "When you have nightmares, you scream so loudly you wake all three of us up."

Lukas nodded agreement. "You have to talk to someone about this, Crowley. Whether it's me or Halt or the young lady upstairs, we all want to help you."

Crowley crossed his arms defensively. "I will sleep in the stable, then, so I won't wake you."

Halt glared at him and crossed the room. "Dammit, Crowley!" he said, grabbing the other boy by the collar. "It's not about sleep, anymore! It's about you! We're all worried about you! It's been a month, believe it or not, we're friends now!"

Lukas gently pulled the hibernian away. "Calm down, Halt," he said.

Halt huffed angrily, glaring at the all in general, and stormed outside, grabbing his bow as he left.

Crowley blinked, stunned.

Lukas shook his head wearily.

Pauline, having heard the yelling but not being able to make out the words, came downstairs anxiously.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"Nothing," Crowley muttered, retreating to his room.

Pauline glanced at him, worried. She figured he might want to be alone so she went outside to find Halt.

Lukas picked up the abandoned coffee and measured it into the pot.

"Well, I'm going to Clifend, if anyone cares," he muttered to himself.

…...

_The heat was burning him. He fumbled with the window, desperately trying to escape. A part of him knew it was only a dream, because he'd had this dream so many times before. But that didn't make it feel any less horrible. He knew that the dead body would fall on him at any moment. He gritted his teeth. A weight fell against him and he already knew what it was. Still, his head turned to look, as if controlled by a greater force._

_He sucked in a breath. It was Lukas, burnt and blackened. He pushed the body off of him, but it didn't want to budge. _

_The door crashed back and a smaller figure ran in. Engulfed in flames, Halt yelled at him to open the window. He couldn't because Lukas was weighing him down. He tried to tell Halt that, but all that came out of his throat was a hoarse croak._

_Halt glared at him, his eyes dark and angry behind the flames that licked his body. Crowley knew, even though the hibernian didn't tell him, that Halt blamed him for Lukas's death. _

_The dark haired boy stepped over him and opened the window. He crouched on the windowsill and pulled Lukas out of the burning house. Pauline, who was suddenly in the room with them, followed._

_Crowley tried to go with them but invisible hands held him down. He watched, screaming, as the flames surrounded him._

"_You shouldn't have to live," The voice came from nowhere._

_Crowley wanted to die, but he couldn't stop trying to reach the window. The more he struggled the stronger the contempt in the air became._

"Wake up already!"

All of a sudden he was back in the room he shared with Halt. He sat up.

"Nightmare," he gasped, his heart thumping.

"Again," Halt said dryly.

Crowley shook his head, fumbling for the lantern by his bed.

"N-no, this one was different," he said.

He lit the lantern and set it down. The light cast uneven shadows on Halt's face.

"Do you want to talk about it?" the hibernian asked, looking vagually uncertain.

Crowley shook his head, then thought about what Halt had said about them being friends. He decided he could share a little information with the hibernian.

"A year ago, just before I was apprenticed, my parents died in a fire." he said. He suddenly felt very alone. It was the first time he'd ever said that aloud.

Halt said nothing and Crowley felt oddly compelled to fill in the silence.

"I started the fire," he added. "I left a candle burning by an open window. The wind must have blown it over."

Crowley fisted the blankets with trembling hands. He couldn't stop talking now. He needed to say it aloud.

"I was in my room and I didn't realise until the fire had spread. It wasn't until I heard my mother scream. I ran out of my room and saw the flames leading down the hall. I saw the window and the candle and realised what had happened."

"And then what?" Halt asked softly.

"The flames blocked me from getting to the left side of the house. My mother had emerged from the washroom and was trapped behind flames. My father ran downstairs. He grabbed me and shoved me towards his room. My mother ran towards us but she twisted her ankle and fell. The flames devoured her."

"The fire spread so quickly. Me and my father got to his room, fire dancing at our heels. It was so hot and really hard to breath. We were both weakened from the smoke. I managed to get the window open. My father was too big to fit through. He gestured for me to go. I didn't want to leave him but I was scared."

Crowley fell silent, crying softly. Halt watched his friend with sympathy.

"It wasn't your fault, you know," the hibernian said.

Crowley shook his head. "It was!" he sobbed. "They had told me so many times before, don't leave candles by open windows. I never listened. They always moved the candles before anything happened, but not this time."

Halt didn't know what to say. He hugged his friend, trying to give him a sense of comfort.

"I'm sure your parents don't blame you," Halt said.

"They didn't," Crowley said. "The last thing my father ever said was "why should you have to live with the pain of this?"

Halt stared at his friend. "Then why can't you forgive yourself?"

Crowley sighed. "I don't know, it just hurts. I miss them."

"I understand that, but Crowley, isn't having nightmares for a year enough? Can't you let it go? Remember them as who they were, not victims of a fire?"

Crowley lay back on the bed. He wiped a few tears from his face.

"Maybe," he said.

…...

_Orange flames engulfed the house, devouring it. People were gathering, talking amongst themselves, wondering who the owners of the house were. There was an air of urgency as men tossed buckets of water onto the flames._

_Standing on the crest of a hill, not to far away, Crowley watched. He felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned with sad eyes to face his three friends. _

_Then together, they walked away from the burning house and into the woods._

Crowley woke to the sun on his face. He rolled over and kicked off the blankets.

Maybe he really could walk away from that burning house. Leave that memory behind and aim for tomorrow.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Orhan ran a stone down the edge of his sword. He preferred fighting with his fists, but knew that Rosalee would never allow that. He was to be king, so he needed to use a sword.

He rose, dropping the stone, and swung the heavy sword a few times. Despite his preferences, he was very good with his sword, having trained in one of the kingdoms battleschools.

The tent flap was pushed open. He glanced up angrily, a heavy frown distorting his face as Rosalee strode in. She sat down in a chair, treating him to a smile.

"Good morning, Orhan," she said, her voice as soft and sweet as ever.

But Orhan knew his partner well, and he could see the angry gleam in her eyes. Normally, he loved that gleam, because it meant someone was about to be hurt. Today though, her anger was directed at him.

He had left witnessess. The girl had escaped, run away to god knows where. His men had been killed by two boys and a scruffy looking man. Worst of all, Pauline was no longer with them.

Had she been here, Rosalee would have been able to take her anger out on the girl. Now, Orhan knew he had to tread carefully.

The men they had with them in the camp were Orhan's. He directed their orders and the issueing of equipment and he disiplined them. But they were more loyal to Rosalee, mainly because she was a beautiful woman.

Which was a problem for him. When the king and his heir were dead, and Rosalee tricked the nobles into making her queen, she might decide not to marry him and make him king. It was a definate possibility. He'd thought about eliminating her, but he needed her sly mind to put the plan into full effect.

So for the time being, all he could do was try to convince the courier that she needed him. Of course, leaving witnisses behind made it a little harder to do so.

"Don't you ever knock?" Orhan grumbled, not allowing his emotions to show.

Rosalee looked around them. "On what?" she asked. "Cloth?"

Orhan shrugged, embarrased. The large tent might resemble a home with the furniture that he had acquired over the years, but it was a tent for all that.

"Shouldn't we be dealing with the witnisses?" he grunted, to cover his embarrasment.

Rosalee cocked her head, examining him with cold eyes. She didn't need to open her mouth for Orhan to know what she was saying. _The witnisses you left, you mean._

"Well?" he snapped. He could feel the heat rising to his face.

"They are being taken care of," Rosalee said.

Orhan frowned. He thought he knew who was "taking care of them," but he had to ask, just to be sure.

"Is it Nameless?"

Rosalee clicked her tongue. "Yes, it is the man you call Nameless."

Orhan scowled. Things were getting worse for him. Nameless had appeared out of nowhere, claiming to hate the king. Rosalee had immediately enlisted his help. The man was skilled, smart and mysterious. He refused to tell them his name. Orhan thought that made him untrustworthy. Rosalee thought it was delightfully attractive.

"I just thought I'd let you know that you don't have to worry about the witnessess anymore," The courier rose from her seat. She walked towards him, leaning forward to brush her lips against his cheek. Orhan blinked, stunned. He felt her lips move from his cheek and lightly touch his mouth.

Rosalee pulled back.

"What was that?" Orhan stared at her. His mouth was tingling from the contact.

"We're going to be a married couple, remember?" Rosalee smiled. "May as well look the part."

Orhan felt a flicker of hope that maybe his position was better than he had thought. Or maybe she was trying to decieve him. After all, her mouth was smiling but her eyes were ice.

He watched her leave the tent. Rosalee was far more mysterious than Nameless.

…...

Pauline was sitting on a log at the fringe of the forest, watching as Halt and Crowley shot arrows at targets. Apparently, they were competing to see who was the better archer. To Pauline, they were both fast and her untrained eye couldn't pick out who was faster or more accurate. If one of them won, she thought, there was very little in it.

She shivered as a cool breeze touched her arms. The ground darkened notably as a cloud blocked the sunlight. She glanced at the two boys, decided they wouldn't notice if she left them, and headed indoors.

Lukas was slicing pieces of cold meat and cheese. He didn't look at her when she entered, so Pauline went straight up to her room. She rummaged around in the wadrobe, producing a woollen cloak which would serve well against the chill.

She glanced briefly at herself in the mirror as she left the room. She looked different, like she wasn't the same girl that had trailed after Rosalee. Pauline smiled to herself. She _was_ a different person now. This girl could think for herself, act for herself, and would try her hardest to be a good person.

Pauline skipped down the stairs, feeling oddly optimistic. Lukas was still working at the kitchen bench.

"Give me a hand, will you?" he asked without turning around. Pauline gathered cutlery and plates, setting them out on the table.

"Run and get the boys," Lukas ordered. She nodded and hurried to do as he asked.

She ran over the fields, calling to her friends. Halt waved to her in acknowledgement and he and Crowley started jogging towards her. They slowed when they reached her and the three of them walked back to the farmhouse.

"So what's for lunch?" Crowley asked.

"The usual," Pauline shrugged, "Bread, cheese and last night's chicken."

"Poor Feather," the blond boy sighed. Then his face lightened as he added, "though she sure does taste good!"

"My god, Crowley, you actually know our dinner by name?" Halt asked.

Crowley grinned at him, "yeah, my favourite's the little brown one with white speckles."

"_All _of them are brown with white speckles!" Halt said.

"I don't know, Halt, I'd say most of them are a more orangey colour," Pauline couldn't help putting in.

Halt glared at her. Crowley's grin widened.

"She understands," the blond boy said. "Want me to name one of the new chicks after you, Pauline?"

Pauline smiled. "If you like," she said. "Have they hatched yet?"

"Nope," Crowley said. "But when they do, I'm going to name the smallest, scruffiest one Halt!"

Halt glowered at him. Pauline couldn't help giggling, even when the hibernian glared at her.

"Of course, I'll name it's twin Stop," Crowley continued.

Pauline giggled again. She wasn't sure if chickens had twins, but neither were the others. Halt's glare darkened. He leapt past her, grabbing the blond boy's collar.

Crowley wriggled free of his hold. Pauline smiled to herself as she watched Crowley running away from the Hibernian chasing him.

"I'll kill you! I'll turn you into a pincushion!" Halt was yelling, but Crowley didn't stop laughing.

She blinked as Crowley seemed to disappear, then realised he had tripped. They had run quite a distance ahead of her and she couldn't hear the quiet exchange between them, but she saw Halt walk past the fallen apprentice and into the house. Crowley, still grinning, rose to his feet.

"Hurry up, Pauline! I want to eat Feather!" he called to her.

She laughed and quickened her pace. Crowley waited patiently for her, then suddenly his eyes widened and he started running towards her.

Pauline frowned at his expression, puzzled by his change of behaviour. She couldn't see that there was any reason for seriousness, after all. Something-

A strong hand clamped over her mouth. She couldn't turn her head to see who it was, because he held her so tightly. It didn't smell like Orhan, who always stank of sweat and beer. Also, the hands weren't quite as big, she thought with some relief.

She squirmed and kicked, but it was no use. The man started dragging her away from the farmhouse.

Crowley was running after them.

"Jarlon!" he yelled. Pauline dug her nails into the man's hand, leaving bleeding scratches on his skin. For some reason, Crowley seemed to know the man.

"Stop that," the man hissed, his breath hot against her ear. She bit down on his hand.

She felt the blow hit the side of her head, just before everything went dark.

…...

Crowley ran as fast as he could. There was no doubt about it. Fully dressed in a ranger's uniform, Jarlon was dragging Pauline away. Did he know her? Maybe she was in league with Rosalee and Jarlon was working hard to protect the kingdom.

"Jarlon!" Crowley yelled. He was gaining on the ranger. He had to tell Jarlon that Pauline could be trusted. Then, if Jarlon no wanted to be in the corps, Crowley would understand that. He would quit the corps as well and find a new job, one that would keep him close to Jarlon.

He saw the blow coming and had to resist yelling a warning to Pauline. He didn't want his mentor to think he couldn't be trusted. Crowley winced as the fist slammed into Pauline's head and the girl slumped unconcious. Jarlon lifted her over his shoulder.

"Jarlon!" Crowley called again. The ranger wouldn't turn to face him. Instead, Jarlon started running towards the forest. Crowley sprinted after him, his breath coming in raggid gasps. Burdened by the unconcious girl on his shoulders, Jarlon didn't gain any ground, but he didn't lose any either.

Jarlon disappeared behind a tree. Crowley's eyes narrowed and he doubled his effort, determined not to lose track of his mentor.

He skidded around the tree, knowing that he didn't have a chance of hearing Jarlon. He caught glimpses of his mentor as the two of them dodged trees.

He heard a whinny, and realised with horror that Jarlon would have left his horse somewhere nearby. Crowley angled towards the sound. He darted around a large tree and saw Jarlon seated on the horse, Pauline lying in front of him.

Jarlon urged his horse into a gallop and Crowley was left in the dust.

Crowley felt tears building in his eyes. He remembered the last time he'd chased after his mentor like this. Then, he had been trying to bring Jarlon back to the corps.

"I understand now," Crowley whispered. "If you don't want to be a ranger, that's fine. So come back."

\


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

Crowley stood numbly, still trying to process what had just happened. His mentor, the man he had been looking for, had just captured one of his friends. If Pauline had been a traitor, why didn't Jarlon tie her up and discuss it with Crowley?

A mental image appeared in his mind of the girl with fear in her eyes and her wrists bound together. His stomache churned a little bit at the thought. Crowley shook his head, as if doing so would shake away the image.

Pauline wasn't a traitor. Halt had spoken to him of the things Rosalee and Orhan had done to her. She would never serve people like that now, not of her own free will.

Why had Jarlon taken her away?

For the first time since Crowley had met Jarlon, a seed of anger stirred in his heart. Anger directed at his mentor.

Jarlon had abandoned him. He had left him all alone, with no family and no close friends. His only reason for living was to find his mentor. And then he met Halt, then Lukas and Pauline. Three people he felt comfortable with. He liked them. He'd even stopped having nightmares.

Jarlon had no right to suddenly appear and make everything painful. He should either come back, or go away.

Crowley kicked the trunk of a tree. He hated the feeling of pain that had returned to him. The lonliness, the hurt and now, the anger.

"Crowley!" Halt and Lukas appeared beside him.

"What happened?" Halt asked. He glanced around and a look of horror appeared on his face. "Where's Pauline?" he asked fearfully.

Crowley shook his head helplessly and leant his forehead against the rough bark of the tree. Salty tears trickled from his eyes and down his cheeks. Lukas laid a hand on his shoulder. He leaned over to look directly into the apprentice's face.

"Where is Pauline, Crowley?" He asked gently. Crowley shook his head again. He took a few deep breaths, then turned wide, tearful blue eyes on his mentor.

"He took her," he said.

"Who?" Halt asked. He glanced around the trees as if he half expected a monster to appear.

"Orhan?" Lukas asked.

"Jarlon," Crowley breathed, the name bitter on his tongue. Lukas actually stepped back in surprise.

"Who?" Halt asked.

"Are you sure?" Lukas stared intently into the tear filled eyes. "Are you absolutely sure?"

"It was him," his voice caught in his throat, coming out as a dry croak.

"Who?" Halt asked again.

Lukas started pacing back and forth. "In that case, we must be very careful," he said. "Jarlon is the worst enemy we could possibly be up against. But why? Why would he betray us?"

Crowley slid to the ground, his back to the tree trunk. "I don't know," he murmered. "Why, Jarlon?"

"Who the hell is Jarlon?" Halt yelled, losing his patience and his temper.

"Crowley's mentor," Lukas said briefly. He rubbed the back of his eyes, pacing back and forth. Anyone could see he was thinking deeply about the situation.

Halt knew he shouldn't interrupt but Lukas's answer was totally inadequete. It raised even more questions than it answered and Halt couldn't bear not knowing.

"Why would Crowley's mentor capture Pauline?" he asked. "For that matter, why wasn't Crowley with his mentor? What-"

"Whoa!" Lukas cried. "One question at a time!"

Crowley buried his head in his arms. "Jarlon wasn't with me because he left the corps."

"Then why-"

"We don't know anything else," Lukas interrupted. "But I suggest we find out."

Halt nodded, curiosity still burning in his chest. He didn't feel he had the full picture but decided to let it go.

Lukas grabbed Crowley's arm and pulled lightly. "Come on, now," he said with false cheeriness in his voice. "We have to take a look around this forest, see if we can track 'em."

Crowley didn't move. Lukas tugged at his arm again. The apprentice just sat in a crumpled heap, not meeting their eyes.

"Don't you want to find Pauline?" Lukas asked, hauling the boy to his feet. Crowley stood silently, his face miserable, tears dripping down his cheeks. The ranger gave him a push in the right direction.

"Let's go save her then," he said. "Which way did you say they went?"

Crowley pointed straight ahead.

"I guess all we can do is look for some tracks," Lukas said. He glanced up at the sun, then turned to Halt.

"Halt, run back and get the horses," he instructed. "Also food and camping equipment."

Halt nodded. The wind whistled past his ears as he sprinted out of the forest. His feet barely touched the ground. Funny how a place seemed to change with one's emotions, he reflected. Ten minutes earlier he'd been running over the fields trying to tackle Crowley. Now, he had to reach the farmhouse before Pauline was lost forever.

The horses whinnied in alarm as he skidded to a stop by their stalls. Halt saddled them and led thm outside as quickly as he could. He grabbed their packs and rushed inside, filling them with clothes and other nessesities. He bundled up the lunch that was set out on the table, stuffing it into a random bag.

Halt forced himself to slow down for a moment as he mentally ticked off all their equipment. If he forgot something important now, it might slow them down in the long run.

Dark whinnied and nudged his shoulder. Halt pushed the horses nose away. He mounted and set off at a gallop towards the trees. The other horses followed him.

He slowed to a trot. He recognised a tree with a crooked branch that formed an L shape. Halt frowned. Lukas and Crowley were no where in sight.

He was suddenly very aware that an enemy had captured Pauline and might still be in the area. What if the man called Jarlon had come back and shot his friends? His throat was dry and his breath came in raggid gasps.

He rode forward slowly, half expecting to see his friends lieing motionless on the forest floor, arrows protuding from their bodies. All he saw was the dry leaves that crackled under the horses' hooves.

Halt closed his eyes, listening to the forest sounds. He heard nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing to indicate that he wasn't all alone.

"What are you doing? Come on already!" Lukas snapped from somewhere behind him. Halt stiffened and spun around.

"Lukas!" He said. Of course, how could he forget that the ranger could move in total silence when he wanted to?

Crowley was with him too. He was pale, but looked slightly amused at Halt's surprise.

Lukas swung up onto his saddle. "We followed their tracks for a little while," he said. "He had a horse tethered some metres back. Come on, we're losing time and daylight."

Crowley quickly mounted Swift. The apprentices rode side by side, following Lukas. The ranger's eyes were intent on the ground, searching for the faint indents left by a horse's hooves.

Halt glanced back once. The fields and farmhouse was obscured by the trees. He wondered if they would ever return to the happiness they had there. He knew they wouldn't have stayed there forever, but he couldn't imagine what his life would be like any other way. So much had changed since he left Hibernia and now another change was taking place.

"He hasn't tried very hard to conceal his tracks," Crowley observed. Halt glanced at him. It seemed as if the blond boy had shaken off his misery and was concentrating on the trail. Halt decided to do the same. To take things one step at a time. All he could do right now was focus on the task at hand. He wasn't going to let anyone hurt Pauline.

"He's trying to put some distance between us," Lukas explained. "We can only follow him in daylight because we have to be able to see his tracks. He'll keep riding through the night when we rest and then he'll start covering his tracks and laying false paths."

"So what do we do?" Halt asked. When the ranger phrased it like that, it sounded like they had no chance at all.

Lukas turned to him, his bright green eyes glinting with determination. "We beat him at his own game."

Crowley didn't look convinced. "He's very good at hiding his tracks. Jarlon is a ranger, after all."

"So am I," Lukas said.

"We don't really have a choice, do we?" Halt put in. "We have to save Pauline so we'll have to track him."

"Exactly," Lukas said. "Now let's pick up the pace."

He urged his horse into a steady canter, the apprentices following his lead.

They rode through the day. As evening drew closer, Lukas signalled for them to start setting up camp.

Halt didn't own a tent, but one of them had to be on watch at any time so it didn't really matter. Crowley gathered stones and arranged them in a circle for a fire. Lukas pitched the tents while Halt and Crowley lit a fire and layed out some food for dinner.

Lukas rummaged through the bags. "Where did you put our bedrolls?" He frowned, "all of our clothes are all jumbled up, did you just stuff everything in random bags?"

Halt scowled. "Well, I didn't have a lot of time. Next time one of my closest friends is captured I'll be sure to spend half an hour organising everything."

Lukas rolled his eyes, finally finding some blankets. "It doesn't take much to put my stuff in my bag and your stuff in yours."

He shook his head and joined the apprentices by the fire. Halt handed him a cup off coffee and he nodded his thanks.

"Why would Jarlon do that?" Crowley asked after some time.

Lukas shook his head helplessly. "I don't know," he said. "I really have no idea."

Crowley sighed deeply. They were all silent, thinking of Pauline and if she was okay. Not one of them tasted the food they were eating.

They cleaned up, rinsing the plates in a nearby stream.

"I'll take first watch," Lukas offered. "You two get some rest."

Halt and Crowley crawled into a tent each. Halt closed his eyes wearily. When he woke, they would be faced with the problem of tracking a ranger.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Pauline woke groggily. There was something digging painfully into her stomache. She groaned, feeling totally disorientated. As she woke fully, she became aware that she was hanging upside down over the front of a saddle.

For a moment, she had a horrible feeling that she was back with Orhan. She lifted her head, hoping against hope that she wouldn't see the familier figure.

The first thing she noticed was that this man was much slimmer than Orhan's bulky figure. She breathed a silent sigh of relief. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew it was someone she didn't know.

"You're awake," The voice was also very different to Orhans. It was quiet and had a soft edge to it. The voice of a man who didn't bluster or boast.

The horse stopped. Pauline felt the man dismounting behind her. She awkwardly slid off, landing in a heap on the grass.

The man reached a hand down to her, helping her up. She stared at him, noticing the cloak that was so like the ones her friends wore. A ranger cloak, she thought. So this man was a ranger.

She looked up into his face. He had narrow cheeks and a long nose. His mouth quirked up in the corner in a bitter smile. His hair and beard were short and had a few streaks of grey. His eyes were amber and spoke of many long years of suffering.

"We must keep moving," he said. Pauline looked up at the sky. It was nearly evening, she noticed with some surprise.

"Come, sit in front of me. It will be more comfortable."

Pauline glanced sharply at him, wondering why her enemy would care if she were comfortable or not. He must have seen the look because he shrugged and looked away.

"Or, I can hang you over the saddle pommel again," he suggested.

Pauline didn't like that idea at all and it showed on her face. She swung up onto the saddle. The man mounted behind her. She stiffened as she felt his arms go around her, then realised he was reaching for the reins.

He urged the horse forward and they continued at a canter.

"You may call me Jarlon," the man said eventually. He said it with a tone that indicated she should know him. The name meant nothing to Pauline.

"Haven't you heard of me?" She could feel his frown at the back of her head.

"No," she said. For a moment she feared he would be angry at her answer.

"Crowley hasn't mentioned me at all?" Jarlon asked, sounding crestfallen.

Pauline spun around. So maybe he wasn't out to hurt her at all. Maybe he wanted to get back at Crowley. But he didn't sound like someone who was out to hurt anybody. He was speaking to her as if they were out on a stroll together.

She stared up at his face. His expression was neutral. Still, there was something in those eyes that said he was hurt that Crowley hadn't mentioned him.

He was wearing a ranger cloak. Pauline's eyes widened. Could it be.. could it be that this man was Crowley's mentor?

"What is your name?" Jarlon asked her.

"Pauline," she answered briefly, still focused on trying to figure out what was going on.

"What a lovely name," Jarlon complimented her. "But please, my dear, don't waste precious energy thinking things through. Let's just enjoy the fresh air, shall we?"

Pauline glanced at him again. There was something hard in his expression now, something that told her not to anger him.

"Well, it is a lovely day," Pauline said. She'd had lots of experience when it came to pretending that everything was alright. After all, Rosalee didn't want her blurting things out to random people.

As she had the thought, she resolved herself to blurt something out. The time was past when she would obey without question. She opened her mouth and said the first thing that came to mind.

"Crowley's happy now, I think." She was surprised at herself. That hadn't been what she'd meant to say. She waited to hear Jarlon's reaction.

There wasn't one. He remained silent for a long time. Pauline found herself wishing she hadn't said anything. The idle chatter from before was better than silence. She wanted a distraction.

"Where are we going?" She asked, trying to draw Jarlon out.

"You'll see," Jarlon replied breifly.

She shrugged and studied the landmarks around them, just in case she got the chance to escape. There wasn't much to look at. Just trees. Maybe, if she could identify one type of tree from the other she might have been able to find her way back to the farmhouse. But all the trees looked the same to her and Jarlon certainly wasn't going to help her.

She was never sure of the precise moment when she realised evening was drawing near. It started getting harder to pick out the individual leaves as the shadows lengthened. The colour of the forest darkened and the sun didn't shine through the tree tops, lighting up the leaves, anymore.

Pauline looked up at the sky. Through the tops of the trees she could see a magnificent orange, streaked with pink and blue. Somehow, without her realising it, sunset had come.

In recent times she had taken to watching the sun set on the veranda with Halt and Crowley. She usually appreciated the simple beauty of the sky's painting. Now though, it meant only one thing to her. Night was coming. She didn't fancy riding along in the dark with a strange man she hardly knew. Even if he was Crowley's mentor.

"We'll keep riding through the night, I'm afraid," Jarlon said. Pauline spun around to look at him. He'd been silent for so long, she was taken by surprise. If her comment about Crowley had offended him, he showed no sign of it now.

"I know, it'll be uncomfortable. But it has to be done, my dear," Jarlon continued, obviously reading her expression wrong. Her backside was aching a little, but she had so much on her mind that she didn't think about it.

"Aren't you tired?" Pauline asked. She knew it wasn't going to work, but she hoped he would stop to sleep. That would give her friends time to catch up. There was no doubt in her mind that Lukas and the boys would come after her.

She couldn't help the smile forming on her face. It was a good feeling, knowing that there were people out there that cared about her. She wasn't alone.

"No, I think I can carry on for a bit," Jarlon said. "And what's that smile about, my dear?"

The smile vanished immediately. Pauline turned away from him.

"It's just a beautiful sunset," she said. There was no way he was falling for something like that. She waited for the suspicious accusations.

"It is," Jarlon sighed. Pauline blinked. He sounded so regretful and lonely. Like he was standing on an island apart from the world, watching people come and go, unable to join them.

Pauline twisted in the saddle to look up at him again. She knew what being alone felt like. She too had been trapped on an island.

"Used to love watching the sun set," Jarlon said, so softly that if she hadn't seen his lips move, she wouldn't have heard him.

"With someone?" Pauline asked before she could stop herself. He turned those sad amber eyes on her.

"No," he said. But the word didn't ring true.

Sometime later, Pauline realised she couldn't see the outline of her hand anymore. The stars twinkled down at her. Her eyelids were beginning to feel heavy and she swayed in the saddle.

For once, she was glad that Jarlons arms were around her. It stopped her from falling.

"You can lean back on me, if you like," Jarlon murmured in her ear.

Pauline immediately stiffened. "Why would I want to do that?" she asked sharply.

"My dear, it's late, you're tired. I'm sure you will find it easier to sleep if you lean back against me."

Pauline rubbed at her eyes. She was tired. She slowly leaned back, resting the back of her head on his shoulder. But she couldn't relax this close to another person.

"You're never going to get any sleep, if you're as tense as that," Jarlon said, sounding a little amused.

Pauline sat upright again. "I can't sleep in a complete strangers arms," she said.

"Complete stranger?" Jarlon repeated, "that's a little harsh. We've had some nice conversations. I thought we were making progress with our relationship."

"I'm your prisoner, not your friend," Pauline said.

Jarlon chuckled softly. "Too true, too true," he said. "What a shame."

Pauline racked her mind, trying to think of a clever reply. The truth was, in this dark forest, she was actually glad Jarlon was there. She would obviously prefer to be back in the farmhouse with Halt and Crowley, no doubt about it. She was hoping against hope they would suddenly appear to save her. It was just that talking to Jarlon took her mind off fear. For an enemy, he wasn't too bad. She would rather be captured by him than Rosalee any day.

They rode through the night. Pauline marvelled at the endurance of the little, shaggy horse they were riding. She noticed though, that their pace had slowed considerably. With one horse, carrying two people without rest, it needed to conserve it's strength.

The hours passed slowly. Despite what she had said earlier, Pauline was now leaning back against Jarlon. She was exhausted. She never knew thinking could make her so tired.

She was never sure when she fell asleep. The next thing she knew, she was rasing her weary head to see the grey light of dawn. They were no longer in a forest but riding along a dusty track.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Jarlon said. Pauline sat up straight, wincing as she stretched her stiff muscles. Sleeping on a horse. Not the most comfortable experience.

"Not much further now," Jarlon said.

Pauline felt her nerves return to her. Not much further until what?

She turned to study the way they had come, hoping she'd see her friends appear over the horizen. She didn't.

"Why did you capture me?" Pauline said, not expecting an answer but asking all the same.

As she had expected, Jarlon didn't say anything. She twisted around, taking in his expression. There were bags under his eyes. He looked exhausted, Pauline thought. Understandable, since he'd ridden through the night without rest stops.

Pauline smiled inwardly. Maybe, she had a chance to escape here.

"I'm hungry," she whined. "Can we stop riding now?"

"Soon, we're nearly there," Jarlon said.

"But I'm hungry now!" Pauline insisted.

She felt Jarlon shift behind her. He thrust some dried fruit at her.

"Here," he said, sounding impatient.

Pauline frowned. She accepted the fruit. She really was hungry so she ate a piece. Time to change her plan.

She turned to face her captor, summoning a concerned expression.

"You look tired, Jarlon," she said innocently. "Are you sure you don't want to rest?"

His amber eyes were cold. "Shut up, Pauline," he said in a quiet voice, totally unlike how he had been acting previously.

Pauline wisely did as she was told. She faced the front, her shoulders slouching in defeat.

The track widened into a road. Pauline looked with interest at the small cluster of buildings. Was this where Jarlon would hold her prisoner?

"Here we are," Jarlon said. He dismounted in front of a two story building. He knocked firmly on the door. It was opened by a greasy looking man. His hair was long and grey, braided to his potbelly. His nose was hooked, his mouth thin and his eyes constantly shifted, never staying still.

Pauline saw the fear on his face as he stood in front of Jarlon, gaping like a fish.

"Nameless... uh..."

"I am in need of a room," Jarlon said.

"Yes.. uh.. of course," the man muttered, looking less than pleased. "Right this way, sir."

"Wait," Jarlon stopped him before he scurried off. "I need you to care for the horse. I'll find myself and the lady a room."

"Of course... you do that..."

Jarlon helped Pauline off the horse. He seized her hand and led her up the stairs, kicking open the door to a room. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing. Obviously, he'd been to this place before.

The keys to the room were resting on one of the beds. Jarlon locked the door, slipping the keys into his pocket. He flopped down on one of the beds.

"Sit over there," he ordered curtly, "and don't talk."

Pauline sat down on one bed. She propped up the pillows, leaning back comfortably. It was good to rest her aching muscles. She let out a sigh of satisfaction, then immediately glanced at the other bed to see if Jarlon had noticed.

He was pulling the covers up to his chin. In a few seconds, he was breathing deeply. Even though she'd seen him lock the door, she still tip toed over to it. Pauline helplessly rattled the doorknob, wishing the door would swing open.

"Stop that," Jarlon said.

Pauline started. She had been sure he was asleep. She shrugged and returned to her bed. She hadn't really expected to escape.

She lay back, getting herself comfortable. Jarlon was breathing deeply again. She found her own eyelids beginning to droop and before she knew it, she was asleep.

…...

Lukas woke them by banging some pots together. The harsh clang resounded through the air and Halt and Crowley rushed out of their tents, confused and disorientated.

"I can't find a clean shirt," Lukas said, frowning at Halt. "Where did you put my clothes?"

"I don't know!" Halt snapped, annoyed at being woken early. "How am I supposed to remember where I put every little thing!"

"I notice you knew exactly where the coffee pot was last night," Lukas pointed out, unfazed by the angry apprentice. Halt glanced over to where the pot was sitting by the remains of last nights fire.

"Anyway, Crowley, make us breakfast, will you? Halt, you help me sort out these bags."

The apprentices hurried to do what they were told, though Halt was scowling.

"No time for coffee, just a quick bite to eat," Lukas said, ignoring how Halt's scowl deepened and Crowley's face fell.

Working fast, they sorted the contents of the bags so items were tied to the owners saddle. Lukas's horse also carried all the food, because he didn't trust the boys with it.

They ate quickly, with no idle chit chatter. Then they mounted and Lukas urged them on to greater speeds.

"We have a lot of time to catch up," he said. "But no one can ride for too long without rests so if we go fast, we have a chance."

So one they rode, stopping for a quick break every two hours, then continuing on. The tracks were easy enough to follow, but Lukas assured them that sooner or later, Jarlon would disappear. Or at least, he would seem to.

Halt still felt he was missing the big picture, but he knew better than to ask Crowley about it. He edged Dark closer to Lukas and asked about Jarlon. But the ranger just said it was none of his business.

Halt scowled darkly. Of course it was his business. This man had taken one of his only friends away from him. Who knows what Pauline might be going through right now? How dare Lukas say it was none of his business!

But he didn't say anything aloud. Crowley was riding beside him, pale faced and silent. Lukas was staring intently at the ground ahead, waiting for the moment when the tracks faded into nothing.

**Note: Jarlon rode through the night without rest stops. It's better to stop to rest the horse and all that as it says in the books but Jarlon didn't have another person to keep watch. He didn't want Pauline to escape so he had to stay awake. But when she was asleep, he stopped to give the horse some rest, though he himself didn't sleep. Ahh, you probably don't care, it was just nagging at me when I was writing the chapter.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Pauline woke to someone shaking her roughly. For a moment, she was totally confused and disorientated. She tensed, thinking it was Orhan, then relaxed, remembering Halt and Crowley, then froze as she remembered Jarlon.

"Get up," Jarlon said stepping away from her. Pauline rubbed her eyes, sitting up. The sunlight was streaming through the narrow window. She guessed she had been asleep for about an hour.

"Time to get going, my dear," Jarlon said. He still looked tired, but there was a sharp gleam in his eye that said his mind was working clearly.

Pauline swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up gracefully. She tried to look confident as she faced him, but inside she was afraid. Jarlon pushed her towards the door. He unlocked it then led her downstairs, one hand resting against the small of her back.

The diningroom was empty, which didn't come as a shock to Pauline. The greasy man from the morning was sitting on a stool behind the counter. He leapt to his feet when he saw them approaching.

"Thank you for the room," Jarlon said politely, though Pauline noticed he made no move to pay.

The man nodded several times, shifting his weight from one foot to another. Pauline felt his eyes on her, a curious burning gaze.

"We'll be going then," Jarlon continued, gently shoving Pauline forward. "You'll keep your silence, I presume?"

"Course, Nameless! O' course!" He said, looking down at his hands. He didn't seem very honest to Pauline. She thought it might be better to pay the man to keep him silent. She'd seen Orhan do that. But Jarlon looked satisfied with the answer.

"Come along, then," he said.

Pauline's muscles ached in protest as she mounted the horse again. It whinnied and tossed it's head a few times. It was remarkably well rested after only an hour. In a way, it reminded her of the small horses Lukas and Crowley rode. Only this one was well groomed, a sleek and shiny bronze colour. It was a beautiful animal, but right now she despised it.

"What are you groaning about, dear?" Jarlon said cheerfully, swinging up behind her. His arms went around her to hold the reins and she stiffened uncomfortably.

"What's the matter?" Jarlon asked, urging the horse into a canter. "You were fine with me yesterday. Curled up against me as you slept."

A flush of embarassment rose in her cheeks. She ducked her head, clenching her fists. Keeping a straight face was becoming harder and harder these days.

Jarlon chuckled behind her. She felt his chest rumble with laughter. He seemed to be in good spirits, despite the lack of sleep.

"You know, you remind me of someone I knew four years ago," he said.

"Who would that be?" Pauline asked, in some surprise. She glanced over her shoulder to see the former ranger smiling sadly.

"Doesn't matter," he said.

They rode on. Past the village and into the wild country once more. They left the track and wound uphill, through a forest.

"We'll stop for a while, I think," Jarlon said. He tugged lightly on the reins and the hose stopped immediately. He swung down from the saddle, holding out an arm to help Pauline dismount.

The apprentice courier tried getting down on her own, but she didn't do a lot of riding and her muscles were stiff. She reluctantly let him help her.

"Time for food, I think," Jarlon said as he dug around in the saddle bags.

"I ate before," Pauline said, deliberately trying to be annoying. Jarlon's friendly nature, however much she appreciated it in the dark forest at night, was getting on her nerves. After all, he had captured her against her will. They were enemies.

A flash of anger crossed his face, before his features smoothed out again. He regarded her with a completely blank expression.

"You know," he said flatly, "You don't remind me of her anymore."

"Oh?" Pauline raised an eyebrow. "So you've decided you aren't fond of me anymore?"

Jarlon shrugged. He flopped down under the shade of an oak tree, munching on bread and salted meat. He patted the spot next to him.

"Sit," he said briefly. Pauline sat, helping herself to a slice of bread.

"I thought you were'nt hungry," Jarlon said, a small smile lurking at the corner of his mouth. But, as always, the smile didn't reach his distant eyes.

"I didn't say that," Pauline said through a mouthful of bread. "I said I had already eaten this morning."

"Well then, help yourself to more," Jarlon gestured to the small assortment of dried meat and fruit.

"I will," Pauline said with great dignity. She grabbed another slice of bread. She was more hungry than she had realised.

"Good to see a young lady with appetite," Jarlon laughed, returning to his good spirits. Pauline thought the ex ranger was a strange creature. One moment he was laughing and joking, the next he was angry and sad looking. He seemed to jump from emotion to emotion. Though, she noticed his eyes never sparkled and his chuckles were hollow.

"Stop talking like that," Pauline muttered. Jarlon tilted his head in question, not understanding. "Stop talking like we're friends."

"Why shouldn't we be friends?" Jarlon said.

Pauline shook her head in exasperaton. "I don't know, maybe because you abducted me!"

"Ah," Jarlon stood up and started packing away the food. "I guess we are enemies, then."

"Of course!" Pauline said. She rose to her feet, stretching her muscles.

Jarlon smiled at her and gestured for her to get on the horse.

"There's no reason we can't be enemies _and_ friends," he said.

"Yes there is!" Pauline insisted. She slid awkwardly on to the horse, holding it's mane until she was relatively comfortable.

Jarlon clicked his tongue and shook his head in mock disappointment. He swung easily onto the saddle behind her. His arms went around her once more and they rode on.

10 minues later, Jarlon brought the horse to a stop.

"Stay here," he said briefly to Pauline. She nodded and flashed him a reassuring smile. She might get a chance to escape, if he would just move far enough away.

But he stayed where he could see her. With a pang of worry, Pauline noticed he was covering their tracks.

"I'm going to lay a false trail over there," Jarlon said. "Do I need to tie you up?"

Pauline shook her head quickly, trying to look innocent. Jarlon studied her for a moment. He looked unconvinced, but he shrugged.

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt," he said. Pauline couldn't believe her luck.

She waited until he was out of sight, obscured by the trees. Holding her breath, she eased a foot out of the stirrups and lowered herself to the ground. The horse turned it's head to study her.

Pauline brought a finger to her lips. "Shhhh," she murmered to it, hoping it would get the message.

The horse tossed it's head several times, then moved a few paces to where Jarlon had disappeared.

The apprentice courier edged away from the animal. She forced herself to breath deeply and calmly. If she panicked, she'd give herself away.

She started walking away from the horse, moving around a tree to hide herself from sight.

The horse let out a shrill whinny. Pauline jumped in fright and started running. She tripped over a root, grazed her knee, and kept going. Her leg stung, a trickle of warm blood leaving a trail down her skin.

He was on her before she could blink. One moment, she was pushing branches away from her face, the next she was face down on the forest floor.

"That was a silly thing to do," Jarlon hissed in her ear, his breath hot against her skin.

Pauline whimpered. She was pinned to the ground, Jarlon's weight holding her down.

His hands pulled at her arms, heaving her up. Pauline stumbled. Her legs had turned to jelly and only Jarlon's strong arms were holding her upright.

Without a word, the ex-ranger led her back to where the horse waited. It snorted and whinnied happily. Pauline imagined there was a note of triumph in that whinny. She glared at the horse.

Jarlon forced her up onto the saddle. He sighed. "If you are determined to be stubborn, I will have to tie you up."

"I'll stay here," Pauline said, trying to look regretful. "I promise I won't try that again. Please don't tie me up."

Jarlon shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't believe you, my dear," he said. He pulled produced a coil of rope from a saddlebag.

"I got this from that lovely inn keeper this morning," he told her while binding her hands. He looped the rope around her wrist and pulled it tight, then tied it to the saddle. If Pauline wanted to escape, she'd have to bring the horse with her. She didn't think that would be easy as the horse twisted it's head to watch her being bound, a gleam in it's big brown eyes.

"You won't be able to get off," Jarlon said, souding apologetic. "I'll untie you when it's time for a break."

Pauline tugged at the rope experimentally, seeing that he was right and it was too awkward for her to dismount. Even if she had been a better rider, the length of rope was too short.

"I'll be right back," Jarlon said and darted behind the trees.

Pauline sat, waiting. She realised with a sense of horror, that Jarlon was covering their tracks. He was erasing her hope. Would Lukas be able to follow them? She had no doubt that he would try.

She smiled at the thought of her friends. It made her warm inside to think that they were out there somewhere, searching for her.

She had to help. She wasn't going to sit back and be useless. Pauline twisted around, studying the ground. The only sign that they had passed by here were the faint hoof prints of the horse. She had to leave a sign.

Jarlon returned and rubbed out the hoof prints. He saw the look on her face and gave her a smile.

"Cheer up, now," he said. "It's not so bad."

They kept riding, stopping every now and again to cover their tracks. Jarlon was getting annoyed at the slow progress. He eventually decided it would be quicker to keep Pauline tied up. He decided to get half an hours sleep so he lifted her from the saddle and tied her to a tree.

Pauline squirmed, a twig poking her upper thigh. She watched as Jarlon fell instantly asleep and wondered how he could relax on the forest floor. She noticed a spider crawling from a crack in the tree and shuddered.

Then she told herself to not be a wimp. Jarlon was asleep. This was her chance to do something! Pauline looked around, searching for someway to leave a trail. She tugged at the fabric of her dress, trying to rip a bit off.

Pauline hissed in annoyance. She needed something sharp. Her gaze fell on the knife lying beside Jarlon's head. She slowly moved her bound hands towards it. She seized it, and dumped it in her lap. With her hands stuck together, it was awkward to unsheath it, but she managed to shake it loose.

The apprentice courier smiled to herself. For once, she would be able to do something useful. She used the knife to tear her dress, fraying the end. Later, she would be able to pull out the threads. Just in case, she hacked off a chunk, cutting it into small pieces and stuffed them in her jacket pocket.

She held the scabberd steady with her knees as she returned the knife and placed it gently by Jarlon's head. Then she arranged a piece of the pale pink fabric on a bush.

She waited for Jarlon to wake. His amber eyes opened and stared at the saxe knife. Pauline froze, worried that she'd put it in a different position. Jarlon yawned, stretched, and fastened the double knife scabberd to his belt.

"Good morning, my dear," he said cheerfully. Pauline breathed a silent sigh of relief but she didn't relax. There was still time for things to go wrong. She could feel the spot where the fabric was behind her, trying not to look in that direction.

Then she worried that maybe not looking that way would seem unnatural and Jarlon would sense something wrong. She forced her shoulders to relax, knowing that she must look fake and shifty. Jarlon helped her onto the horse. He looked away from her and his eyes passed over the spot where the fabric lay.

Pauline swallowed. The ex-ranger wasn't moving. She could see the fabric standing out from the dark green leaves of the bushes and wished she hadn't put it in such an obvious place. The seconds ticked by painfully slowly. Jarlon didn't say anything. He swung up behind her and urged the horse forwards.

She'd done it. Lukas and the boys would be able to find her, no problem.

On they rode. Her hands started to go numb from the rope and Jarlon paused to refasten them. Her muscles ached and she was tired and hungry. She didn't complain. Every time she began to feel glum, she pulled a thread from her dress and let it drop. Every time, she thought Jarlon had surely seen her, but the ex-ranger never commented. A small thrill of triumph rose in her chest, blossoming when she released a thread right after Jarlon had finished covering their tracks.

**Note: Argh! How the hell do you cover tracks! Wouldn't you need to double back and wouldn't that make you have to cover twice as much distance? Aaaah, oh well. Fanfiction doesn't have to be correct... does it?**


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

The trail had gotten significantly harder to follow, though Lukas was still picking up tell tale signs. They rode slowly, eyes intent on the ground.

"I can't see anything, can you see something?" Crowley said. He had shaken off his depression, it seemed, and was beack to his usual, chatty self.

"No," Halt said shortly. Lukas led the way, with no sign of doubt in his manner. Halt had lost all signs of the trail, but he had faith in the rangers ability to track.

"Funny how he just seems to disappear like that," Crowley noted. "He was like that all the time when I was training under him."

"Really?" Halt murmered absently. He'd thought, for a moment, that he'd seen a bit of cloth. As the wind blew and rustled the leaves, he saw that he'd been mistaken. It had just been an unusual shadow.

"He was," Crowley said. "Some days I'd just lose him. Then he'd reappear and laugh at me. I used to get annoyed. It's too bad he captured Pauline, I really miss him."

"Yeah," Halt muttered, nudging Dark a little closer to the edge of the path to get a better look at the bushes.

"I remember when we were chasing down bandits," Crowley continued. "We cornered them, but they weren't going down without a fight! They attacked us! Jarlon raised his long bow and shot 'em all dead!"

"Aha," Halt murmured.

Crowley glanced at him. "Then, out of the bushes jumped a wicked witch. She swore at us and cursed us. Jarlon shot her too. But her ghost has been haunting us ever since."

"Hmmm."

Crowley shook his head at the reply. Obviously, the hibernian hadn't been listening to a word her said.

Still, he'd talked about Jarlon without a break in his voice. Times were changing. If Jarlon rejoined the corps, would Crowley still want to train under him?

No, the blond boy decided. It would be better if Jarlon got a nice, peaceful home to forget about the horrible things that had happened to him. Then, Crowley could stay with Halt, Lukas and Pauline and still come visit his old mentor sometime.

"A village," Lukas said softly. Crowley rose in his stirrups to get a better look. Sure enough, nestled in the trees, were a bunch of houses.

"What's a village doing in the middle of no where?" Crowley asked.

Lukas shrugged. "Probably a spot for tourists. I'm guessing Jarlon stayed there."

He pointed to a two story building with a crude sign identifying it as the inn.

"Good business here," Halt said sarcastically, looking around at the few houses.

"Maybe not," Lukas agreed. "But the fewer the customers, the more likely our innkeeper is to remember the ones who do come."

"You think he'll be able to tell us anything?" Halt asked as they dismounted outside the building.

Lukas shrugged. "Jarlon probably paid him to keep his mouth shut, but it's worth a try."

"Of course," Crowley put in. "With so little people, the innkeeper would probably do anything for a few gold coins."

Lukas grinned. "We seem to be saying probably a lot." he said.

"Why would you set up an inn in a place like this anyway?" Halt asked, tethering Dark. Crowley and Lukas just let the reins drop.

"That's a point," Lukas said, hesitating. He thought the question over. "I think," he said slowly, "that Jarlon may not be acting alone."

He was aware of the curious looks his younger companions gave him and phrased his thoughts carefully. "If this were a band of people, say, a cult or an army, they might have set up these houses as a spot just for them."

"To use as a meeting place, you mean?" Halt said. "Or a resting point for members of this... group."

"That's right," Lukas nodded at him. His hand fell to the double knife scabberd at his belt. "Let us proceed as if everyone we meet here is an enemy."

The boys nodded, both of them fingering their weapons. Lukas led the way up wooden steps and pushed open the door.

A man rose as they entered. He ran a hand through his greasy hair, looking quite distressed upon seeing the knives at their belts.

"I suppose you'll be wanting rooms, too," he said, eyeing them warily.

"No, we want information," Halt said impulsively. He knew he should leave the talking to Lukas but couldn't help himself.

The man started. He started slowly backing away towards the bar, obviously hoping they wouldn't notice.

"You stay where you are," Lukas said quietly. "What's your name?"

The man froze in place, his eyes darting from side to side. He seemed to have lost his voice.

"We'll pay you, of course." As he spoke, Lukas reached into his purse and pulled out a gold coin.

The man's eyes glittered with greed. He hesitated, torn between loyalty and money. Money won.

"m'names John. John Barker," he said.

Lukas smiled. "Good," he said. "Halt, Crowley, why don't we take a seat over there while John tells us what we need to know."

Crowley perched on the edge of a stool. He was leaning forward, eager to know what sort of organisation his former mentor was a part of.

Halt sat on a stool as well, but he was fidgeting impatiently. He wanted to be back on the road in search of Pauline.

"Would you like drinks, sirs?" John said, darting behind the bar.

"Coffee would be much appreciated, dear John," Lukas said, smiling.

Hal watched impatiently as John's shaking hands brewed up a pot of coffee and poured them all a cup.

"Now, perhaps you might begin by telling us if you know anyone by the name of Jarlon."

John shook his head quickly. His hands were resting on the bar, twitching as if he weren't sure what to do with them.

Lukas frowned. "Have you had a customer recently?" he asked, changing his question.

"Yes," John said, his voice husky.

"Did he pay you?"

"No," John shhok his head, a look of resentment on his face. "He just walked on out with the girl."

"Girl?" Halt asked.

"Pauline?" Crowley asked at the same time.

Lukas made a gesture at them to be queit. But John seemed to be warming up to his role as traitor and added. "I don't know what her name was. A pretty girl, long blonde hair, 'bout 15 years of age, quite tall."

Halt nodded. "That's her, where is she?" Hope was building in his chest, squeezing his heart. Everything seemed to have silenced as he waited for John's reply. He couldn't hear the birds twittering outside anymore, or the scuffling as Crowley shifted to a more comfortable position. Everything revolved around the innkeepers next words.

John shrugged. "Dunno, they left ages ago."

It was as if a weight had dropped onto him. The feirce flame of hope died in his heart.

"What the hell do you mean you don't know?" Halt yelled at him. John leapt backwards as if he'd been bitten. The hibernian was on the verge of strangling the cowardly innkeeper. He'd actually risen from his seat. Then Lukas had his arms around him, forcing him back down.

"Calm down, Halt," he said. Halt didn't feel like calming down. But he didn't have much of a choice, as Lukas was far stronger than him. The second the ranger let go...

Lukas didn't let go. He kept a firm hold on Halt's wrists as he adressed John.

"There was a man with this girl. Can you tell me about him?"

John nodded, warily watching Halt. "He's Nameless. The stranger who joined."

"Joined what?" Lukas asked quickly. There was a tense pause. John's eyes were were watching the knives at their belts.

"It doesn't have a name." He hesitated, not quite willing to make the final step towards being a traitor. Not from any sense of honour, but from fear.

"We won't tell anyone who told us," Lukas reassured him. "Even if we're captured. But if we're successful, you'll be free to get a nice, popular inn in a big fief and that will surely make your life better."

John's eyes lit up with greed. His tongue darted out of his mouth and licked his lips.

"All right," he said. "It's a group that's been working to dethrone the king. They've nearly succeeded too. I'm not told much, but from what I've heard, there's only one more phase in their plan."

"...which is?"

"I dunno," John shrugged, flinching at the look Halt gave him.

"Who is the leader of the group?" Lukas asked.

John fidgeted, scratching his neck. "Leaders. Officially, there's Orhan and Rosalee. But no one cares 'bout Orhan. Not that anyone'd say it to his face. It's just, Rosalees gorgeous,."

A sly look appeared in his eye, and Halt's dislike for him grew. Rosalee and Orhan. He'd heard the names. Pauline's mentors and the ones who ordered the death of the dark haired girl. She flashed into his mind unbidden. He wondered what had become of her. He'd never even found out her name.

"She gives us the best rewards too. But only if we please her."

Halt growled, remembering a summers evening he sat with Pauline, staring at the golden fields of wheat, listening as she told him horrible stories of her mentors. Hatred was bubbling in him. He hated the people who had done that to her.

"They have a camp, yes?" Lukas said. Halt remembered Lukas saying something about a ranger invetigating the camp. It seemed a long time ago. All the time they had loved in the farmhouse, they had been waiting for something to happen. But now it had happened, it seemed unbelievable.

"Yes. It's up in the north." he said.

"Could you give us directions?" Lukas asked.

John shook his head immediately. "If they want me there, Rosalee sends someone to fetch me. They don't trust me, cause I'm always stationed here on my own."

"Can you blame them?" Halt muttered grumpily. He tried to pull his arms away from Lukas's grip but failed. "Lukas, let go already!"

The ranger regarded him. "I think it's time to go." he said. He shoved Halt towards the door and gestured for Crowley to follow him. He slid another gold coin over the bar.

"That one is for your silence."

John nodded uncomfortably, looking thouroughly untrustworthy.

The three of them left the inn and continued on their search for Pauline.

"Halt, I'm very disappointed in you. Please, try to keep a cool head," Lukas scolded the hibernian.

"Yeah, whatever," Halt muttered, clenching his fists around the reins.

Lukas sighed and rubbed the back of his eyes. "Well, let's just find Pauline, shall we?"

With a huge effort, Halt refrained from snapping at his mentor. They would be much closer to Pauline if Lukas hadn't insisted on stopping at the inn. Sure, they had learnt a lot, but they had no way of knowing how much of it was true. So really, they had learnt nothing. And they were even further away from Pauline.

Halt felt sick thinking of what Pauline had told him about her mentors. If John was to be believed, the apprentice courier would soon be reunited with her mentors. Halt wondered if Pauline knew that yet. What was she feeling at this very moment? Was she even still alive?

Halt closed his eyes, letting Dark pick the best path. He slipped a hand under his cloak and found the pouch he wore around his neck. He didn't take the medallion out, in case the others noticed and he didn't want to answer questions at the moment. But he gripped the pouch tightly.

_How are you? _He thought, pointlessly hoping she would hear him. _Horrible things are happening here. I wish you were with me. You and Pauline would be good friends, I know you would. And you'd like Crowley and Lukas too. _

"Halt?"

The hibernians head snapped up. Crowley was watching him, a worried look in his eyes. Lukas was riding in front and had his back to them. He didn't react at all to the worried tone in Crowley's voice. Halt wondered if he was angry or just concentrating on the tracks.

"Is there something wrong?" the blond boy asked hesitantly.

"Yes, there's something wrong! Pauline's been kidnapped by your mentor!" He said it thoughtlessly, his mouth speaking while his mind was elsewhere. He heard the words and regretted them. His tone had been harsher than he'd intended, and he knew he'd implied that Crowley had approved of the kidnapping.

Crowley looked as if he'd been kicked. Halt turned away, furious at nothing in particular. Just life in general.

"Will you two stop blabbering!" Lukas snapped at them suddenly.

"I'm not blabbering!" Halt protested indignantly. "It's Crowley!"

Which was totally unfair, as the other apprentice hadn't been blabbering at all. In fact, the only thing he'd said was an expression of concern for Halt. The hibernian scowled. Crowley _usually_ wouldn't shut up.

"You both are," Lukas snarled. "That's what I get for bringing apprentices along with me. Darned nuisances. Now, stop distracting me!"

A horrible feeling was building in Halt's chest as he realised why Lukas was suddenly in such a bad mood. Apparently, Crowley had the same thought, for he was the one who voiced it.

"Can you still see the trail?" he asked. "We haven't lost them, have we?"

"Of course not," Lukas snapped. "I'm a far better ranger than Jarlon, even if you don't believe it Crowley!"

The silence stretched out forever. Then, very slowly, Crowley said, "If you're so much better, why did he steal Pauline out from under our noses?"

Halt saw Lukas's shoulders slump. He felt bad for losing his temper, but would never admit it. He was tired, hungry and couldn't stop feeling angry, even though he also regretted everything he'd said.

"We've lost her, haven't we?" he said miserably. His vision blurred and he discretely dashed a hand across his eyes.

"We knew tracking him wouldn't be easy," Lukas said. "We just have to keep going and-"

"Look!" Crowley cried. "By that bush!"

He dismounted. Lukas spun around in the saddle. While they had been talking, he'd stopped watching the trail.

"What? What is it?" Halt asked.

"Cloth! From her dress!" Crowley swing down from the saddle and picked it out, holding it up to them. Halt stared at the pale blue scrap of cloth in Crowley's hand.

Lukas smiled. "Well, it certainly seems likely that we're on the right track. Unless it's another travellors been through here recently."

"No, it's definitely hers," Crowley said, his cheeks reddening slightly. "It's exactly the same colour as the dress she was wearing before she was captured."

Lukas's smile widened. "I believe you," he said.

They rode on. Lukas spotted another piece of fabric before long.

"This is very unusual," he said. "The path is wide, so there's no need for he to be pushing through the bushes. It's almost as if she's purposefully leaving us clues."

"Maybe she is," Crowley said, his face happy.

"Maybe," Lukas agreed. "But I don't see how Jarlon could fail to notice."

None of them could come up with an explanation. Halt didn't care. He was just glad they were one step closer to finding Pauline. In the face of their hope, the three of them were allies once more.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

It took a day and a half for them to leave the forest completely. Lukas glanced back regretfully at the trees, certain that now the greenery was limited, Pauline would no longer be able to hide her threads. But barely ten minutes later, he spotted another one poking out from the grass.

It was so obvious in the afternoon light that he couldn't possibly believe Jarlon hadn't noticed. Yet there it was, shining blue in the sunlight.

The thought had occurred to him that perhaps it was a trap. He had thought long and hard about how wise it might be to keep blindly following the threads. But the alternative, to return to the farmhouse, abandoning Pauline didn't appeal to Lukas at all. He'd grown somewhat fond of the three youngsters that had been living with him for the past month and didn't like the thought of what Pauline might go through should Rosalee and Orhan get their hands on her. He was also naturally curious and didn't like not knowing exactly what was going on. Besides, this was the best chance he had to find the campsite of th group and put a stop to them.

So he didn't mention the theory about the trap to Halt or Crowley. He didn't want to frighten them, after all. A grin twisted the side of his mouth as he imagined the sort of profanity Halt might prepare for him if the hibernian knew what he was thinking.

"What are you grinning about?" Halt asked suspiciously.

"Oh, nothing, nothing," Lukas said airily, waving one hand in a careless fashion.

"How close do you think we are to catching them?" Crowley asked now the gates for conversation were open.

Lukas shrugged. "I don't know for sure," he said. "We've got an easier time of it, since I can trust you two to keep watch. But then, who knows what might happen? Maybe Jarlon has rendezvoused with more people from their mysterious group. What I do know is we seem to be heading North East."

Halt eyed the land in front of them. The trees seemed to be thinning and the ground was covered in short bristly grass.

"So, we're getting close to the coast?" Crowley asked.

Lukas nodded. "That's right," he said.

On they rode, resting every few hours. Halt kept expecting something to happen, but somehow the days kept passing uneventfully. He waited, half expecting to see Pauline around every bend. He didn't and slowly, he became used to life in the saddle. They rode and rode and nothing happened and it seemed to Halt as if five years had passed, though it had only been five days.

On the sixth morning, they found themselves travelling parallel to the sea. Crowley commented on that, they talked for a while, then everything was the same as it was before. Sometimes, where the land was devoid of plants, Halt could see the glittering blue ocean and he'd peer at the horizen, imagining he could see Hibernia.

It wasn't until the seventh morning that something happened. The day started the same as the other days. They ate breakfast in quick bites, packed up their gear and prepared to mount their horses. Lukas shook his canteen, frowning as he didn't hear the swooshing of water.

"Dammit, I'm all out of water," he said. "Halt, I saw a stream when I was scouting around. Would you like to go top up our water supplies?"

Halt raised his eyebrows. "No, I wouldn't," he said deliberately.

Lukas tossed him the canteen. "Tough, go on."

Halt rolled his eyes and grabbed his own canteen, figuring that he may as well fill his own up as well.

Crowley grinned and raised his canteen to his lips, water dripping down his chin. "Take mine too, Halt," he said holding out his now empty canteen.

Halt glared at him. "Get your own water," he growled.

"Oh, you're so mean!" Crowley said, shaking his head sadly.

"Both of you, just hurry and go," Lukas snapped at them.

Halt shrugged and slipped between the trees. Crowley hurried to catch up with him.

"Where's the river?" Crowley asked.

"Over here," Halt said shortly, annoyed though he couldn't say why. Crowley's voice was getting on his nerves. He actually didn't know where the river was, but figured it couldn't be hard to find.

"How do you know? Crowley asked.

"I just do," Halt snapped.

"But Lukas didn't tell you where the river was, so how do you know?" Crowley persisted.

Halt kicked a pebble angrily, watching it fly into a tree and imagining it was Crowley slamming into the trunk. It was taking far too long to find Pauline. What if they never did? What if for the rest of his life he was wandering the land, searching and searching. He imagined himself as an old man, finally finding Pauline's body lying still and silent in death.

"Halt?"

Halt realised he had stopped walking and started again abruptly. "Do you ever shut up?" he said in frustration to the boy beside him.

Crowley looked hurt and they walked on in silence. Then suddenly, Crowley grabbed Halt's arm.

"Listen, I hear water," he said. "Come on, this way!"

Halt hurried along with him. Now that Crowley had said it, it seemed so obvious. How could he have missed the sound of running water? He'd been blundering along in the wild, hoping to just bump into the river. He should have thought to stop and listen.

Well, how could anyone listen with Crowley yapping in their ear. It was a weak defence but Halt told himself it was Crowley's fault, not his.

The sound of running water grew louder and suddenly, there it was. They walked over to the edge of the river. It was bigger than Halt had pictured. He'd imagined a stream but this was a strong river, three or four metres wide and littered with rocks. He could see by the way the water flowed that there was a strong current.

"Don't fall in," Crowley said, having noticed the same thing. Halt crouched down on a large, flat rock and held his canteen under the water. He couldn't see the bottom, so he reasoned it was quite deep. Beside him, Crowley bent down to fill his canteen as well.

"Well, I'm all done," he said.

Halt ignored him. He put the stopper back on his canteen and started filling Lukas's.

"Halt..." Crowley said. "Do you remember which way we came?"

Halt glanced around at the trees, his heart sinking. He had no idea which way they'd come. Lately, he'd been losing his focus. He didn't care about little things so much. He told himself he should be thinking about whether Lukas was getting worried but a mean little corner of his mind was saying, let him worry. It wasn't Halt's problem.

"You done yet?" Crowley asked impatiently. Halt lifted the canteen from the water and put in the stopper.

The pouch he wore arund his neck swung out over the water as he moved. He tossed the canteens up onto the grass and grabbed the pouch, holding it steady.

"Do you think we'll be able to find our way back?" Crowley asked, looking nervously at the trees. "I don't want to get lost."

"Coward," Halt muttered, still holding the pouch tightly. He didn't care if they got lost. He'd lost everything anyway. One day he would die, far from his home and the people who cared about him. Why wait for that day?

She would be shocked if she knew what he was thinking, Halt thought. A sigh escaped his lips. His thought's had been getting dark recently. This wasn't the life he wanted. He was sick of sleeping in the open, having little food and, most of all, feeling scared.

"What's that?" Crowley asked, staring at the pouch.

"Nothing," Halt snapped, automatically stepping back, away from the other boy. Only, he'd forgotten he was standing on the rock. His foot encountered nothing but air and everything slowed down as he waved his arms, trying to balance on the edge of the rock.

Then he was falling, his arm colliding painfully into another rock, then pain shot up his leg, then his other arm. The world was spinning and water poured into his mouth. He closed his eyes against the water and all he could do was shut his mouth and try not to breath.

He didn't know which way was up. Halt tried to gather his wits about him and try to figure out what had happened. He'd fallen into the river. So now the current was spinning him and sucking him down the river. He forced his eyes open, hoping to figure out which way to swim. All he could see was swirling bubbles in a giant blur. The back of his leg was burning, constant throbs of pain travelling up it. A red tinge was creeping into the water and he realized he was bleeding. He tried to get some control over his limbs.

He moved his leg and the pain lessened. He'd been dragging it against the bottom of the river. His lungs felt like they were about to burst and he knew he needeed air. Using his arms and legs, he pushed himself up, trying to find something to hold onto.

His hand touched a rock and he threw his other arm up. Wrapping his arms and legs around it, managed to lift his head above the water. He took a gulp of air. The water was tearing at him, trying to force him off the rock. He looked over at the shore and saw Crowley running along the bank.

"Halt!" the blond boy yelled.

Halt would be damned if he called for help. He just hung on to the rock stubbornly.

"Wait there, I'll help you!"

"Where else am I going to go, you idiot!" Halt yelled at him. His leg really hurt, even more so than the rest of him. At least it wasn't broken, he could move it fine.

He watched as Crowley looked around frantically for something to help him with. He could hang onto the rock for ages. It wouldn't be pleasant, but Lukas would come and somehow he'd get back on the shore.

He pressed his face against the rough rock. Help me, he thought to his amulet. His amulet! He pulled back from the rock enough to look down. The pouch was gone. He risked letting go of the rock with one arm to fumble around his shirt for it. He couldn't find it. It was gone.

She was somewhere in the river. He couldn't let her die in this foreign country.

Halt let go of the rock. The current swept him away again. He held out his arms, desperately hoping he'd grab the amulet but he was being unrealistic. The current spun him around. It was a miracle he wasn't already dead. Any moment, he expected a rock to slam into his head and kill him.

He kicked up to the suface and snatched a breath before he was forced under again. Where was his amulet? He needed it! It was his family!

Where are you? He thought desperately. Where are you? Where are you?

He grabbed helplessly anything he coul, hoping against hope he would feel the soft leather of the pouch.

His hand closed around something. The current pulled him forward, but the things in his hand didn't budge. He reached back with his other hand and seized hold.

He pulled his head out of the water and took a breath. He was hanging onto the branch of a tree that leaned right over the river. He pulled himself up higher, so his chest was resting on the branch and his legs were dangling into the water.

Then, by some miracle, or maybe just an enormous piece of luck, he saw it. The pouch was caught on another branch, from the same tree, tangled up on the surface of the water. Halt reached out a hand to grab it, but he couldn't quite reach. If he could just strech a little more.

"Halt!" Crowley, puffing from running down the bank, reached him. The blond boy crouched down, reaching out a hand for Halt.

Halt ignored him, still intent on trying to get his pouch. Crowley frowned, noticing what the hibernian was after.

The tree was large and sturdy. Crowley climbed swiftly onto the branch and crept out over the water. From there, he reached down and grabbed Halt's pouch. He tossed it onto the bank.

"There," Crowley said, slightly breathless. "Now, come on, get out of the water."

Halt looked at his friends dangerous perch. One slip and Crowley too would fall into the water. He felt a sudden surge of affection for the blond boy and vowed to be nicer to him in future.

Halt pulled himself along the branch. Crowley carfully climbed down from the branch he had been balanced on and onto the bank. He held out a hand to Halt and the hibernian took it. Crowley pulled him up onto the grass.

Halt seized his pouch and held it tightly in his hand. He lay there on the grass, sopping wet and panting. His body ached from hitting the rocks, especialy his right leg.

"Your leg!" Crowley exclaimed. Halt raised himself onto one elbow, looking down at his tattered clothes. His right leg was dripping red water. He painfully sat up.

"Let me see," Crowley said, gently lifting the leg. Halt winced at the pain.

"You've got a pretty nasty gash there," Crowley said. "We should get you back to camp and bandage that up."

"Or we could just sit here," Halt said.

"Take your cloak off," Crowley said. "It's wet,"

Halt shrugged at slipped it off, tossing it to one side. He shivered. The day seemed much colder than it had before.

"Here, put my one on," Crowley held out his dry ranger cloak.

Halt pulled his wet shirt off and accepted the cloak. He relished the warmth it gave him, wrapping it tightly around himself.

"Thanks Crowley," he said, touched by the concern in the other boys eyes.

"No problem," Crowley said, shrugging his thanks off awkwardly.

"There you are!"

Both apprentices spun around. Lukas slipped off his horse, hurrying over to them.

"You were taking so long, I came to look for you," he explained. "Come on, let's take a look at that leg Halt."

"Aren't you going to ask what happened?" Halt said, stretching his injured leg out.

"I saw it all from your tracks, as clearly as if it was happening in front of my very own eyes," Lukas said. He got out the first aid kit and crouched next to Halt's leg.

He cut the pants away from the wound, wiping the blood off. It was still bleeding but he did the best he could, cleaning and disinfecting it, then bandaging it up. He got out some warm, dry clothes for Halt. Crowley let Halt keep the cloak, choosing instead to use one of his spare ones.

"Up you get," Lukas said, grabbing Halt's arm and heaving the hibernian to his feet. "I would give you both a lecture on not being silly by rivers, but we've wasted enough time as it is. Let's get going."

Lukas had taken all three horses with him when he went to search for Halt and Crowley. He hadn't wanted to waste any more time returning to camp so he figured once he found them, they could get moving right away. He hadn't counted on Halt being injured or having to get him dry clothes.

Halt limped over to Dark, who butted his shoulder playfully. All three of them mounted their horses and rode at a steady canter.

"Let's head a little more east, and see if we can find another one of those threads. We can't be far away now, considering Jarlon has to waste time covering his tracks and we don't have to spend any time looking for them," Lukas said.

Coincidently, the river also curved east and the soon found themselves riding along beside it. Halt glared at it.

As they headed further north, the scenary began to change. Trees were scarce and there were many rocks and boulders scattered around.

Lukas frowned. "It seems we are getting close to the border," he said.

"You mean, the border between Araluen and Picta?" Halt asked.

"That's right," Lukas confirmed.

"Is that bad?" Crowley asked hesitantly.

Lukas shrugged. "It's interesting."

They kept riding. Halt shifted in his saddle, trying to get more comfortable. A stab of pain shot up his leg and he swore.

"You okay?" Crowley asked.

"No, I'm not okay! I've got a bloody great hole in my leg!" Halt yelled at him.

"Well, that's an exageration if I ever heard one," Lukas said dryly. "Surely, you aren't talking about that little scratch from the river, are you?"

"I nearly died!" Halt said furiously. "And it's not just a scratch!"

Crowley looked away. "You let go of the rock," he said.

Halt's face reddened. Yes, he had let go of the rock. But what was he supposed to do? His precious amulet had been drowning. It was all he had of his home.

"It's not that easy to hold on," He said defensively. "The current was strong!"

Crowley turned back to him. "Okay," he said.

"And it was sucking me under!" Halt added. "I didn't want to die, I really didn't!"

"Okay," Crowley said again. "I believe you."

"I didn't have a choice!" And-"

"We get it Halt," Lukas interrupted. "We trust you. You wouldn't let yourself die, not while Pauline is out there suffering."

Halt bowed his head, guilt stinging him. He hadn't even thought of Pauline. Nor of Crowley or Lukas. Never again, he vowed. He would stop being selfish. What if he really had died? What would his friends have felt?

He took a deep breath and regained his compsure. He wasn't afraid to die, but he was afraid of what that might put his friends through.

"Another thread," Lukas said, pointing to a rock. Halt followed his finger and saw the blue fabric shining in the sunlight.

"And look there," Lukas said. "See that hoofprint?"

Halt peered at the ground. It wasn't so much a hoofprint as a very faint scuff in the ground.

"There's another one," Crowley said, pointing to a spot ahead of them.

"It seems that Jarlon has stopped covering his tracks," Lukas said. "He must have decided he was taking too much time."

Lukas urged his horse forward, his eyes intent on the ground. Crowley and Halt dropped back so as not to distract him.

"When we find Pauline, do you think we'll have to fight?" Crowley asked.

"I hope so," Halt said, touching the bow that was slung over his shoulder, then the knife at his belt. "I want to make them pay for hurting her."

"Me too," Crowley agreed, though he looked slightly nervous. Where Halt's eyes were dark and angry, Crowley was less keen. "But not Jarlon, it's not his fault."

Halt snorted. "He's bringing Pauline back to her mentors who do horrible things to her. He deserves to die."

Crowley jerked back in his saddle as if he had been hit. "No!" he cried. "Sure, he's made a mistake but no ones perfect. I bet he doesn't even know what's going to happen to Pauline! Jarlon would never hurt someone so badly. No matter what, he wouldn't!"

"He's changed, Crowley," Lukas said without turning around. "He's a broken man."

"No, he hasn't!" Crowley insisted. "I knew him after his lover died! He was bitter, but he was always kind. He'd never let people know, of course. He was secretive about it. He would do kind deeds for them, help those who are poor but wouldn't tell them he helped them."

Lukas was silent for a while. "Is that what he did?" he said eventually. "Or is that what you want him to have done?"

Crowley turned away, tears in his eyes. "If you believe he is a traitor," he said. "Then I know him far better than you ever did."

"I was his best friend for years, before you were born even," Lukas said. "I think I know him. Now can we please change the subject?"

Crowley said nothing. Halt shifted awkwardly, embarrassed by the emotions, but glad he'd had time to gather his thoughts and cool his own temper.

"The water is getting louder," he observed. Lukas nodded.

"It is, isn't it?" he said. "Maybe there's a..."

His voice trailed off as they rounded a bend. They looked out between the rocks. There was a sudden drop in front of them. The river fell over the edge in a loud, roaring waterfall.

Halt stared at the water dropping through the air and splashing on the rocks below. If he hadn't found his amulet...

"I'm glad we got you out of that river," Crowley said slowly, his thoughts obviously running on similar lines.

"Stop dilly dallying," Lukas said. "Look here, the tracks lead us this way."

He was right. Another blue thread confirmed it. So they headed away from the waterfall, urging the horses into a faster gait because they sensed they were close to finding Pauline.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Pauline stared at the tents. There were at least a hundred of them, spaced out around a clearing. The smoke from a large cooking fire was wafting into the sky. How this place had gone unnoticed was beyond her.

"We're here," Jarlon said. He didn't sound very happy about it. "There's some people who want to see you."

Pauline frowned. She had a bad feeling. Who would want to see her? Except for... no, not them. It couldn't be them, she couldn't bear it if she were reunited with her mentors.

She sat, stiff backed, as Jarlon weaved the horse through the tents. People hurried to get out of the way. She peered at their faces, but didn't recognise any of them.

"Here we are," Jarlon said. They stopped outside a large tent. He dismounted and helped her down.

The guards standing outside the tent nodded a greeting. One of them yelled. "Nameless is here!"

"Send him in," a cool voice said. Pauline closed her eyes in despair. She didn't need anyone to tell her who that was. Rosalee.

Jarlon gently took hold of her arm and led her in. Rosalee was seated on a plush looking chair, her chin resting on one slender hand.

Pauline stared at her with hate and fear. She felt like everything that had happened had all been a dream and now she was back in reality. She had forgotten how long those painted nails were and how every fold of the courier gown was perfectly arranged. She had forgotten the silky black hair, the pale skin and red lips so picture perfect. Most of all, she had forgotten how those eyes, framed by long eyelashes, were empty, dark, emotionless pits.

"How wonderful," Rosalee crooned. "You have rescued my poor apprentice."

Pauline had never before noticed how when Rosalee tried to act kind, her lip twitched in distaste or how her voice sounded strained with the effort of trying to give it too much emotion.

"Poor, poor Pauline. Do not fear, you are safe now."

Her long nails gripped Pauline's jaw, forcing the girls face up. Pauline shook with mingled fear and anger. She longed to slap the hand away and hit Rosalee hard. But long years of suffering had burned obediance into her and she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"And what of the people who stole my dear apprentice?" Rosalee asked softly.

"They are still alive." Jarlon said from where he stood stiffly.

"Oh?" Rosalee released Pauline and turned to face the ex ranger. "Even though my orders were specifically to kill the ranger? The girl is only a bonus, Nameless, did you not understand?"

Jarlon stood rock steady, his eyes looking past them all, seeing some distant memory. "They will come after the girl and then we will have them."

Rosalee considered this, her long fingers stroking her chin. "Yes, I suppose they will. Very well, Nameless, you have not failed me yet. Fetch Orhan, for he will very much like to see our dear Pauline."

"Yes, my lady," Jarlon said. "And may I ask how we are going with our plan?"

"You may ask," Rosalee said. "I will not answer. Fetch Orhan, Nameless."

"Of course, My lady," he left the tent.

Rosalee turned slowly to face Pauline. "Did you fight them?" she asked.

Pauline stared at her mentor with fear. "I... fight..?"

"Did you try to escape? Or were you your usual spoilt, lazy self and tell them all they needed to know?"

"I..."

"You should be worshipping me after everything I've done for you," Rosalee hissed.

"Rosalee?"

Pauline looked up and saw Orhan standing in the doorway.

"Beat her," Rosalee said. "Then throw her in the prison."

Orhan grinned. "With pleasure," he said. Pauline swallowed and tried to back away. "And may I say, what a delight it is to see your ugly, little face again, girl."

She closed her eyes, feeling the fat fists slam into her again and again. She gritted her teeth so she wouldn't make a sound and kept her eyes screwed shut. She didn't want to see the delight in Orhans beady eyes, or the blank expression on Rosalees face that told her the courier thought life was an unimportant game. That was the most frightening thing about Rosalee. The dead eyes that never showed emotion no matter what she said or did. Pauline wasn't even worth getting angry over.

She kept her eyes shut as she was carried away. She was dumped in a tent and left there. Only when she heard the footsteps fade away did she open her eyes.

She groaned softly, and rubbed the bruises all over her body. They hadn't been restricted to just her torso this time. Her arms and legs were black and blue. She crawled over to the tent entrance. As she had expected, the guards waved her back in. There was no way she could get past them. She was back as an insignificant toy, something her mentors could take out their anger on.

She curled up and slept.

…...

When Pauline woke, there was a lantern sitting by her head. She lit it as it was nearly dark. The glow of light sent a warmth through her. It was unlike her mentors to give her small comforts like that. Normally, they would leave her alone to suffer. Maybe the guards had taken pity on her.

She crossed her legs and settled the lantern in front of her. She blinked.

Right by the door was a bowl filled with delicious smelling stew. That wasn't prisoner food. But then again, maybe she wasn't a real prisoner. Rosalee never used to keep her shut away. But then, in those times, the courier knew Pauline was too scared to run away.

Well, not anymore, Pauline thought. She'd had a taste of happiness living in the farmhouse and she was craving more.

She ate the stew. The warmth of it was a welcome pleasure, as she was beginning to get quite cold in the tent. She finished it and tossed the bowl aside.

Pauline pulled the tent flap back. The guards were still on watch.

"What are you doing missy," one of them growled at her.

Pauline shrank back automatically. Then, she mustered her courage and said. "I'm cold."

The guard scowled. "Tough luck, missy," he said.

Jarlon walked past the tent without even looking at her. What had she expected? He was her enemy no matter how friendly he'd been on the way. She shook him out of her thoughts and turned back to the guard.

"Can't I have a blanket or something?" she asked.

"No chance, now get in there."

Pauline sighed and retreated back inside the tent, clipping the flap shut. She wrapped her arms around herself and slept, mainly because their was nothing else to do.

…...

She woke sometime in the early morning. She was comfortable and warm and kept her eyes closed, dozing. She snuggled deeper under the blanket, tucking it under her chin.

And then she was awake and she sat up. She stared at the blanket that covered her legs. Where had that come from? It was good quality too. Thick and warm and fluffy.

She vaguely remembered someone covering her with it while she slept, though she wasn't sure if that was a memory or a dream.

It was strange though. The guard had obviously refused her. Maybe Rosalee or Orhan had ordered them to. Pauline frowned. She could imagine her mentors chuckling away into the night as they thought of her suffering. Not tenderly placing a blanket over her. But maybe that wasn't how it had happened. Maybe they had chucked it in the tent and Pauline had pulled it over her in a half asleep state.

With nothing else to occupy her mind, the question of who had covered her with the blanket woudn't leave her alone as she sat in the half light of dawn, waiting to see who would bring her breakfast.

The guard did. He placed a tray of stale bread and slightly mouldy cheese in front of her.

"Bon appetite," he laughed.

Pauline munched on her breakfast dispiritidly. It was nothing like the savoury stew from the night before.

The day passed painfully slowly. She sat, doing nothing but thinking. Then, Orhan was showed in.

"Hello, girly," He said.

Pauline slid backwards, not having the strength to stand but wanting to get as far away from him as possible. He back hit the cloth of the tent, and she leaned backwards, hoping it would rip but it didn't.

Orhan grabbed her and pulled up onto her feet.

"Nameless this, Nameless that," he yelled, hitting her across her face. "Oh so perfect Nameless has come to save the day! Well I'll show them!"

He punched her stomache and the air was driven from her lungs.

"I'll-"

"Orhan, My lady Rosalee wishes to see you," Jarlon said, poking his head into the room.

Orhan dropped Pauline. He scowled. "She wants to see me now, huh?"

"That's what I said," Jarlon replied patiently.

Orhan's face flushed red. "Yeah, well," he spluttered. "I'll go then. Take the girl to the healer."

Pauline sensed that the last part was just because Orhan wanted to order Jarlon to do something. Nonetheless, she was grateful.

"Whatever you say," Jarlon said. He held Pauline's arm gently and led her away.

"How are you coping?" he asked her as they walked. Pauline eyed him coolly and didn't answer. She knew Jarlon was an ex ranger and that he was very dangerous but she just wasn't afraid of him like she was of her mentors.

"Yes, stupid question, I agree," Jarlon said bitterly.

They walked in silence to a large tent. Jarlon led her in and sat her down in one of the chairs.

"Laura," he called.

A plump woman hurried over to them. She wore bright, colourful clothes in shades of pink, green and yellow with large blue beads around her neck. But her face stuck out of these clothes looking completely unmatched. Her hair was mousy brown, long and greasy. Her skin was so white it couldn't possibly be healthy and her eyes darted around nervously, never holding eye contact with anyone. Pauline knew that this woman lived in constant fear.

"Yes, Nameless," she gabbled. "I'll see to her injuries."

"Just check them over first, make sure there's no broken bones," Jarlon told her.

The woman, Laura, nodded. Pauline sat still as she was prodded and poked. Eventually, Laura stepped back.

Jarlon drew Laura over to a corner of the room. They were speaking in whispers so Pauline couldn't hear what they were saying. They had their backs to her and very slowly, she slipped off her chair.

Any moment, someone was going to yell at her and she would be punished. She was afraid, but she kept backing away. She knew that if she didn't try to escape now, she would regret it later.

The she was at the door and slipping from the room. No one yelled at her to come back. So she ran, weaving through the tents towards the forest.

Now, people were yelling at her. She couldn't see if Jarlon and the Laura had noticed she was gone yet. She just ran blindly towards the trees. She sensed people chasing after her and the fear made her legs run even faster, faster then she'd ever run before.

She ran into the trees. Her throat burned and so did her calves but she kept running.

"Stop!" Someone was shouting.

"Get her!"

"Wait, don't kill her!"

Pauline ran and ran. Did they have bows? She didn't know. She weaved between the trees just in case, trying to give them a target to shoot at.

They were faster than her, she sensed it. She could feel them right behind her, gaining on her. She tripped, but caught herself before she hit the ground. She stared at the uneven forest floor as he ran, knowing she couldn't afford to trip again.

She leapt over a fallen log, then swerved suddenly to the left, desperately hoping to lose her pursuers. She was on a path now that winded through the rocks. She couldn't see what was past the next bend, because of the tall boulders. She skidded around the bend.

Everything was confusion. She heard horses whinny in surprise, then people. Then she was pushed out of the way and dust filled her nostrils. She heard the clash of steel on steel, yelling and crys of pain. She pulled herself to her feet, staring at the mayham.

The last of her pursuers fell to the ground, his clothes stained with blood. Lukas kicked him out of the way and sheathed his knives.

"Pauline!" two young voices called at the same time and she was staring in shock at the grins of relief. Her vision blurred with tears that fell down her cheeks and she covered her face with her hands, ashamed of her weakness but so very happy. She was led over to a flat rock and she sat, while Halt sat beside her and held her hand and Crowley squeezed her other hand as he talked none stop and Lukas calmed the startled horses.

…...

Halt sat beside Pauline as she cried. He held her hand tightly, amazed at the softness of it and the warmth. It was so warm and alive, nothing like the cool metal of his amulet. In that moment, he would have thrown away his amulet a hundred times over to have her hand in his.

"And we saw all the threads you left and that's how we found you because Lukas couldn't track Jarlon because Jarlon's too skilled for him..." Crowley was saying. Halt wished he'd shut up, but was enjoying the moment too much to tell him so.

The three horses, who had been quite startled when Pauline had come tearing around the corner, were starting to settle down now thanks to Lukas's gentle stroking. When the ranger judged they were calm enough, he walked over to the pile of dead pursuers. He stared at them for a moment, then dragged the bodies off the path and tucked them behind a boulder to decay in peace.

He walked over to where the three young people sat. Pauline was wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. Halt was still holding her hand tightly and staring at her as if she might disappear should he look away. Crowley had finally stopped talking and looked as if he didn't know what to do next.

Lukas nealt down in front of the girl.

"How did you escape?" he asked her softly.

"I..I just ran," Pauline said. They took me to the healers and looked away, so I ran."

"I need you to tell me everything," Lukas said. "From the moment you were captured."

So Pauline told him about leaving the threads and being tied on the horse. She told him about the long uncomfortable nights, about the things Jarlon said and did. She spoke of when they first came to the camp, of the beating she received and the tent she was put in. She mentioned the god dinner and bad breakfast and the blanket. Her three companions listened without interrupting and only when she got up to the part where she bumped into them did they speak.

"I think it's time to put an end to this camp," Lukas said.

"Are we going to fight them?" Halt asked.

"No," Lukas said. "You're going to stay here and look after Pauline, I'll do the fighting."

Halt and Crowley both opened their mouths to protest but Pauline got there first.

"There are hundreds of them!" she cried. "You can't fight them all!"

"We don't have to," Lukas said. "In a group like this, once we kill the leaders, the followers will realise they have nothing to gain anymore."

"Then, I'm coming too!" Halt said.

"Me too," Crowley agreed.

"And me!" Pauline insisted.

"Not a..." Lukas began.

"You said we have to pick off the leaders," Pauline said feircely. "Well, I know exactly where the leaders tents are. If this is going to work smoothly, You can't get lost."

Lukas frowned. "No," he said. "All of you are to stay here."

Halt stepped forward. "You once told us that if we went with you, there was no backing out. So we aren't backing out. We'll fight beside you as your allies and friends."

"Right!" Crowley agreed.

"You can go do the hand to hand combat if you like," Halt continued. "But me and Crowley can at least pick them off from a distance with our bows. And when we find a good vantage point, Pauline can point out the leaders tents and you can sneak in to the camp."

"I think that's a good idea," Pauline said, relieved that she wouldn't have to see Rosalee or Orhan again but could still help.

"Yeah," Crowley said, though he wouldn't have minded doing the close quarters combat.

Lukas sighed. "All right, but don't come crying to me when you're killed." he said. "Now, come on, let's find a good vantage point as Halt suggested."

"Now?" Halt blinked.

"Well, there's no point in wasting any more time is there," Lukas shrugged and mounted his horse.

"You can ride on Swift with me if you like, Pauline," Crowley offered.

"Or on Dark with me," Halt frowned at the other boy.

"She'll ride with me," Lukas said, holding a hand down to her. Pauline smiled and swung up behind him. It was much more pleasant riding with friends then enemies, she reflected as Halt and Crowley glared at each other.

They soon found a good vantage point. There was a clear view down at the camp, but they were relatively sheltered by the rocks.

"This is the spot," Lukas said, staring down at the tents. "Which one, Pauline?"

She pointed to two large tents on opposite sides of the cookfire. "That's Rosalees, and that one is Orhans," she said. She'd seen Orhans tent on the way the the healers, Jarlon had pointed it out to her.

"Alright then," Lukas said. Halt and Crowley flexed their bow strings experimentally. "Let's cause some trouble.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Lukas strolled through the camp, trying to look purposeful and as if he belonged. He knew sneaking around would be more risky than walking. If he looked as if he knew where he was going, no body would question him.

He had left his cloak behind and instead wore a plain woollen one. It would be a dead giveaway, walking in with a ranger cloak.

His only concern was that Jarlon would see him. The ex ranger would recognise him straight away. His eyes darted from side to side, scanning and assessing people as he passed. A plump lady standing outside a large tent was looking quite distressed and he guessed she might have been the one who allowed Pauline to escape.

He walked past her, heading for Orhan's tent. The plan was to eliminate Orhan first, as while Rosalee might be frightening, she was still not as strong or dangerous with a weapon.

With his peripheral vision, he saw Jarlon standing beside a tent. But when he turned his head to look fully, the ex ranger was gone. He put it down to nerves.

Orhan's tent, as pointed out to him by Pauline, was right there. The guards stepped forward at the sight of him. Two arrows hissed through the air and both guards slumped silently onto the ground.

Good shots, Lukas thought in approval of his two apprentices.

He strolled on into the tent. Orhan looked up, startled as he entered. Lukas had already known for sure the big man was there, because they had waited until they saw him enter the tent before he entered the camp. If Orhan had emerged from the tent, his three companions would have waved their cloaks at him. He'd been discretely watching them as he'd walked.

"Hello," he said now, quite pleasantly. "You must be Orhan."

Orhan's face was flushing with rage. The big man took a step towards him.

"Who the hell are you?" he yelled.

Lukas laughed coldly. "Oh no, you don't know me? What a shame that you are to be killed by a stranger."

Orhan lept across the room and seized his massive broadsword. Lukas moved to stop him, but was too slow. The gleaming point of the sword swung towards him and he lept back, drawing his knives as he did so.

Maybe, Lukas thought as he saw how Orhan swung the sword as if it were a toy, this wasn't going to be as easy as he'd first thought.

…...

Up on the rocks, Halt, Crowley and Pauline watched Lukas enter the tent.

"I hope he'll be okay," Pauline said anxiously. Orhan was still a figure of total terror to her and she couldn't imagine him dieing.

"Yeah," Crowley said. "Look, that guys noticed the guards." He raised his bow, paused to make absolutely sure he wouldn't miss, and shot. The man, who had been about to raise the alarm, dropped to the ground.

But now, someone else had noticed and he was yelling.

"Rosalee," Pauline said softly. The tall woman had emerged from her tent and seen the commotion. Halt shot at her, but she turned to the right and the arrow missed, hitting one of her guards instead. Panic seemed to be rising in the camp. Rosalee turned, said something to her remaining guard and the two of them ran.

Halt shot at them again but missed.

"Watch the tent," Crowley said. "We can't let Lukas get trapped in there." As he spoke, he was shooting the people. They drew back, seeing what was happening to their comrades and hesitated before going near the tent. They looked around for an enemy to fight but could see none.

Halt lowered his bow, left it on a rock and started scrambling down the rocks.

"Where are you going?" Pauline called after him. "Lukas told us to stay here!"

"It was your idea!" Crowley added.

Halt shrugged. "To hell with this," he said, his eyes glittering with dark fury. "I'm going down there."

Crowley stared at him. "Then I'm coming too!" he said.

"No, Crowley!" Pauline cried. "You have to keep them from entering the tent!"

"She's right," Halt said, though a brief flicker of jealousy stirred in him hearing Paulines desperation. He shook it away. "We need an archer to cover us. I'm just going to get the other leader, Rosalee."

"Halt, no!" Pauline said. To her, when someone went up against Rosalee it meant they disappeared.

Halt smiled at her, pleased that she was worried about her. "I'll be fine," he said.

He turned away and lept down the rocks.

…...

For such a big man, Orhan moved with remarkable speed. He swung the sword up over his head and slashed down at the ranger. Lukas leapt to the side, but the move was instantly followed by a swift side cut.

Lukas crossed his knives, blocking the sword. The shock travelled down his arms as he did so. It was an extremely heavy sword and he wasn't sure how long his knives would hold up for.

He blocked a few more cuts. He was backing away. Soon, he would hit the cloth of the tent. With a shock, he realised if he didn't do something, he might actually lose the battle. He dropped, ducking under Orhans stroke, and slid over the floor behind the big man, hurridly regaining his feet.

Orhan reacted with alarming speed, spinning around and swinging the long sword. Lukas blocked the stroke and immediately pulled his throwing knife away, stabbing in swift, darting movements. Blood ran down Orhans ribs and he bellowed with pain. Lukas grinned at him.

"Come on," he goaded. "Are you trying to die? Lemme have it! Attack me!"

Orhan glowered at him in fury. His face was bright red. Any moment, Lukas thought, steam would come puffing from those nostrils.

He sensed someone behind them and spun around, throwing up his knives just in time. A man had entered the tent armed with a sword. Lukas flat kicked the side of his knee so he fell over then turned back to Orhan.

Steal flickered in his vision and he blocked another cut just in time.

Dammit, he thought. Come on, Halt and Crowley.

The man dragged himself to his feet. Lukas lept at him, pushing his saxe knife under his ribs into his heart. He hurled the man away, automatically dropping to his knees as Orhans slash whistled mere centimetres over his head.

Lukas rolled to the side, rising to his feet as he did so. Orhan aimed another cut at him but wielding such a heavy sword was taking it's toll and his strokes were becoming sloppy as he tired.

Time to put an end to this, Lukas thought. He stepped forward, raising his saxe in a deliberate movement.

Orhan didn't step back. He swung his sword down, knowing his blade had a longer reach and would hurt Lukas first. But his limbs were tiring and his mind was foggy with pain. He might be an accomplished fighter, but he was unused to facing experianced enemies or being wounded.

Lukas slipped, cat like, out of the way of the sword at the last moment. Surprised, Orhan was too slow to turn. The ranger threw his smaller knife and it buried itsself into Orhan's wrist. Orhan yelled in fury and pain as hot blood burst from his wrist. The sword dropped onto the floor with a muffled clang. Lukas didn't hesitate. He quickly kicked it out of the way.

He then kicked Orhan's legs out from under him. Orhan tried to hit him with his good hand but without the long reach of his sword, he wasn't so good at single combat.

Lukas cut his neck. He retrieved his throwing knife and exited the tent.

"Well, that wasn't so hard," he said. He looked around at the bodies, some groaning, some eerily still, all of them the victoms of arrows. Almost everyone in the camp knew what was going on by now. They were bunched together, cowering. Lukas shook his head in disgust.

He walked over to Rosalees tent, but as he had expected, it was empty.

He cursed, then turned to address the people of the camp.

…...

Rosalee ran over the rocks. Her hair was coming loose from the bun it had been tied in and strands of it kept blowing over her eyes. She slowed to a walk, exhausted.

"My lady, we must keep going."

Rosalee eyed him coldly. She hoped her didn't feel special just because she'd run off with him. The other guard had been killed after all. She hadn't had much choice.

"We'll keep going if I say we keep going," she said. Then, just to demonstrate he had no authority, she sat down for a rest. She watched his frightened eyes. Once upon a time she had loved seeing the terror. Now she felt nothing. She had been hollowed out like a ghost. Nothing made her feel normal emotions. Nothing was important to her.

Even if her allie were killed and the plan was ruined. She didn't care. If she felt like it, maybe she'd try again. Or maybe not. Perhaps she would go far away to another land and find what was missing from her life. Yes, maybe one day she would find a way to feel satisfied.

"Sit down," she said to the guard. He sat awkwardly across from her.

She closed her eyes, feeling the sun on her face. She wondered if Pauline had been caught up in the chaos or if the girl had escaped. She felt she ought to go back for the girl, then decided she wouldn't. Pauline could go live her own life now. She hadn't made Rosalee feel satisfied with her life. It was time to start afresh and search for something that would bring her peace. Yes, peace. A long time she had been searching for that.

She closed her eyes, the wind caressing her pale face. She was so tired of being empty. She wanted to care again. She remembered a time, long ago when she had fallen in love with a man. He had been so kind to her and he had been strong and handsome.

She wondered what had happened to him. Maybe she could find him. Or maybe not. Someday though she would find peace.

"Rosalee."

She opened her eyes and turned around slowly. The guard lept to his feet, drawing his sword. A boy stood there, wrapped in a mottled green and grey cloak, his face shadowed by a deep cowl.

She turned away. A boy wasn't worth her attention.

"Kill him," she said to the guard.

…...

Halt was surprised to find Rosalee so easily. She was sitting there on a flat rock, a guard sitting beside her. Neither of them seemed to have noticed him. He'd listened attentively as Pauline had described her mentors to him and had no doubt that the woman was indeed Rosalee.

"Rosalee," he said.

The guard lept to his feet, drawing his sword. The woman turned around slowly. Her eyes were black, deep pits of nothing as she looked him up and down. A shiver ran up Halt's spine seeing those eyes so uncaring. She was extremely beautiful, like a doll, empty of life.

"Kill him," she said, her voice blank.

The guard moved forward. Halt looked at him angrily. He drew his knife, knowing that he wasn't prepared to fight an experianced soldier.

Luckily, the guard wasn't very experienced at all. He charged at Halt, instantly thrusting at him. Halt deflected the thrust. Expecting to meet resistance, the man stumbled. Halt kicked at the back of his legs sending him crashing to the ground.

He hit the guards head with the hilt of his knife. The guards eyes glazed and he lay still. Halt walked past him to Rosalee.

The courier was watching him with those dead eyes.

"You can't kill me, little boy," Rosalee said and he could see she believed it. Perhaps she had become used to people being afraid of her. But all Halt felt was fury.

"Those things you did to Pauline..." he said, his voice shaking with anger.

"The ungrateful little brat deserved it," Rosalee said with a careless shrug.

Halt lunged at her, seizing her collar. He dragged her forward so their faces were centimetres apart.

"How dare you!" he yelled. He rested his knife against her throat, hating her. The things she had done to poor Pauline. Pauline, who made him feel warm when she smiled. Pauline, who took away some of his lonliness and made him feel like he didn't need to return to Hibernia.

"If you kill me now, in cold blood," Rosalee said, a twisted little smile playing at the corner of her mouth, "you will never be able to stop yourself. You will kill again and again those who annoy you. How does that make you any better than me?"

Halt glared at her, her picture perfect face swimming in front of his eyes. He heard Pauline's sweet voice in his mind, telling him about all the horrible things her mentors had done to her.

He pressed the knife into her throat harder. Droplets of blood dripped from her neck. Her black eyes stared up at him.

Rosalee saw the fury in the boys eyes. She knew he was capable of killing her. For the first time in years, she felt something. Fear. Fear that started as a tightening of her chest, then spread to her whole body until she was shaking all over, her lips trembling, her eyes wide. She felt alive again and now she knew she was to lose that precious life.

Halt slit her throat. She fell back, her eyes glazed.

He stepped away from her, staring at the blood, then at his own bloody hands.

It was the first time he'd ever killed anybody. He knew this woman had a family somewhere, that they were probably good people. He knew that he had taken the life of another person, a person who couldn't always have been so evil.

Logically, he knew that. But he felt nothing. There was no sudden clarity or horror.

He'd killed someone. It had been easy. And he'd do it again without a second hesitation.

He walked slowly back to the camp, not feeling anything but a desire to see his friends.

…...

Crowley saw Lukas emerge from the tent.

"Come on," he said. "Let's go down there."

Pauline looked anxiously at the group of people huddled together. Crowley followed her gaze.

"Oh come on, they aren't going to make any sudden moves," he said. "Let's go."

The two of them scrambled down the rocks. Lukas waved and they joined him.

"Where's Halt?" he asked, frowning.

"I'm here," Halt said, walking over the rocks. Crowley glanced at the other boys hands, seeing that they were stained red with blood.

"Rosalee is dead," he said. Pauline gasped softly.

"Dead?" she asked. "Oh..."

She didn't look very happy about it, Crowley thought. He glanced at Lukas, who shrugged.

He walked over to the huddle of people. Some wore swords but they didn't look as if they were very efficiant with them.

"Orhan and Rosalee are both dead," Lukas said. There was a murmur of surprise in the crowd.

"I'll ask you once, leave now and find peaceful lives. Or stay and fight us," he waited. None of them seemed to be willing to make the first move.

"You won't like the last option much," Lukas added mildly.

Finally, someone started running away from the camp. Now that someone had moved, the others followed. Lukas waited until they were all well on their way, then he ushered the others up the hill to the horses.

"But where's Jarlon?" Crowley asked. He swept his gaze around the camp.

"Hopefully, he's gone off to find some peace," Lukas said gently.

Without a word, Crowley sped up his pace, walking in front of the others. HE wasn't sure what he had expected. Still, a part of him longed to see his mentor one last time. He no longer wanted to train under him. He was happy with Lukas and Halt and Pauline. He just wanted to say goodbye and to know for sure that Jarlon wasn't a traitor. Surely there had been a misunderstanding?

He was almost running now and fighting back tears. He reached the horses before the others. Swift nuzzled his arm and he stroked her soft nose.

A flicker of movement caught his eye.

"Jarlon?" he called uncertainly. There was no reply but he heard hoofbeats.

He lept into the saddle and set off at a gallop after the noise. The hoofbeats were soon hidden by Swift's but he was certain if he just got close enough. A urged Swift to greater efforts. The horse leapt over the rocks as fast as he could.

Crowley saw him. They were right by the coast on the edge of a cliff. Jarlon was standing on foot, staring out at the rolling ocean, his cloak flapping in the breeze. His horse, Midnight, was standing a little way back, shifting nervously. Swift whinnied o Midnight, who responded.

Crowley dismounted. Slowly, Jarlon turned around to face him.

"Hello, Crowley," he said softly.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Crowley stared at his mentor, tears forming in his eyes. For so long he Jarlon had been all he had. Yet he knew so little about the man.

There was an awkward silence. There had been a time when Crowley was bursting with questions, confused and desperate. He'd thought to himself over and over all the things he'd say if he ever saw Jarlon again. But Lukas had answered all of his questions.

"I..." his voice broke and he swallowed, then tried again. "Lukas told me about... you..."

Jarlon nodded slowly and sighed. "Yes, I thought he might have."

Crowley didn't like this at all. There was a gap between them, a space that could not be filled.

"You don't have to rejoin the corps if you don't want to," he said, hearing how desperate he sounded. "I want you to find your own peace."

Jarlon smiled, a real genuine smile without any trace of bitterness. "Thank you, Crowley. And don't worry about me. I will find my peace."

"I know!" Crowley said, smiling a lopsided, teary smile.

"I will answer your questions now," Jarlon said. Crowley nodded. He was afraid to ask but knew it would torment him otherwise.

"Did you betray us?" he asked.

Jarlon met his eyes. "No," he said. "I thought about it, in my despair, but I didn't."

Crowley remembered the threads that had showed them the way. Lukas had said he was surprised Jarlon hadn't noticed. He remembered what Pauline had told him about escaping and how Jarlon had distracted the healer.

If Jarlon hadn't captured Pauline, they wouldn't have found the campsite. He closed his eyes thinking about how everything had happened. Pauline had even said Jarlon had been the one who pointed out where Orhan's tent was.

He looked up at his mentor and smiled. "You could have just told us."

Jarlon looked away. "No," he said huskily. "It was too painful to face you. And Lukas doesn't think highly of me anymore."

"No!" Crowley protested. "He.."

Jarlon smiled at him again and his protest faded away. Never once had Lukas said anything good about Jarlon, never once had he doubted that Jarlon was a traitor.

"I never thought you were working with Rosalee!" Crowley said desperately.

"Thank you," Jarlon said simply.

There was a silence. Crowley didn't want to leave in case he never saw his mentor and friend again.

"Who is your other friend?" Jarlon asked. "I know Lukas and Pauline already."

"You mean Halt?' Crowley said. "Actually, I'm not sure if he's my friend or enemy,"

Jarlon grinned. "Yes, that is often the way a good friendship begins."

Crowley thought about that. "Well, I do like him. But I like Pauline more."

"Oh?" Lukas arched his eyebrows and his eyes glittered. He seemed remarkably happy. It was strange talking to his mentor like this.

"After all," Crowley said. "Halt's not blonde or pretty."

"That's true," Jarlon chuckled. "Is he, by any chance, from Hibernia?"

"That's right," Crowley said surprised. Why was Jarlon so interested in Halt?

"Hmmm, thought so," Jarlon smiled mysteriously.

"What is it?" Crowley asked. "Do you know him?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Jarlon waved one hand.

There was another moment of silence. Crowley sighed. "There's so much I want to say, but I can't think of it."

Jarlon nodded. "I'm the same. But please, if there's anything you want to ask, nows the time."

Crowley rubbed his eyes, wiping away the last traces of tears.

"I guess," he began, "I just wanted to thank you for being there for me after the fire."

Jarlon shook his head. "I could have been a better mentor. And a better friend. I know I was always distant and maybe a little bitter."

Crowley couldn't argue with that. This was the most cheerful he'd ever seen his mentor.

"You were there for me," he said simply. "I wasn't alone."

Jarlon smiled warmly. "I was glad to be. Is there anything else?"

Crowley blinked. It seemed almost as if his mentor was waiting for him to finish. He shook his head, wondering what would happen next. Time seemed to have frozen. It seemed impossible to him that he would move from this spot by the sea.

Jarlon moved towards him and, to Crowley's surprise, embraced him. Crowley hugged his mentor back and they stood like that for a while.

Eventually, Jarlon stepped back. "Thank you for being a good friend, Crowley," he said.

Crowley stared at him. "Of course!"

Jarlon smiled, yet another warm genuine smile. "You remember Midnight."

The horse whinnied at the sound of his name. Crowley nodded, confused.

"His codewords are 'please allow me'."

Before Crowley could react, Jarlon had taken four long steps to the edge of the cliff. He looked back at Crowley and their eyes met.

"I found my peace," Jarlon said so softly Crowley nearly missed his words.

Then he leapt from the cliff and disappeared.

"No!" Crowley cried, an anguished cry that hung in the air. Midnight was shaking and pawing the ground, whinnying over and over again.

Crowley hurtled over to the edge, hoping to see his mentor hanging to a rock. But there was nothing but a long smooth drop to the waves crashing on the rocks. He was dead.

Salty tears poured down his cheeks. For his own selfish reasons, he was desperately sad. The squeezing in his chest, the struggle to breath. He remembered this feeling when he was told his parents had died in the fire.

But he had never seen such happiness and such a carefree look on Jarlon's face before he jumped. Despite himself, a smile formed on his face. Right now, Jarlon was being reunited with his lover from so long ago. He closed his eyes and letting himself cry, though still smiling. It felt as if a knife had been stuck into his heart.

But he knew it would get better. He knew because he'd gone through it before after the fire. He knew he would feel happy again. There would be moments where he missed his mentor and Jarlon would always hold a special place in his heart.

There was a lot he'd never learn about Jarlon. But maybe one day, when he was old, he too would slip away into the afterlife and he'd meet Jarlon's lover. Yes, he thought, that would be nice.

When he ran out of tears, he stood up and wiped the dampness from his cheeks. He didn't feel much like riding and led the two horses away from the cliff.

He saw Lukas and the others waiting for him by the horses.

"Crowley, you can't just run off like..." Lukas's voice trailed away as he noticed the redness around Crowley's eyes.

"He's dead," Crowley said. He was surprised at the emptyness of his own voice.

Lukas's face softened. "He's been dead for four years, ever since his lover died."

…...

They rode to Clifend. It was the nearest fief to the camp and Lukas wanted the tents destroyed and the bodies buried. Pauline rode Midnight, as she didn't have a horse.

Lukas spoke to the baron, who was shocked and horrified to hear of what had been going on. He'd even given Rosalee a room to stay in. He gave them a very nice room and said they could stay as long as they wanted.

Lukas was in a hurry to get back to Castle Araluen. He gave his companions the choice of whether to go with him and they agreed with no hesitation. But given everything that had happened, they stayed in Clifend for a few days.

During those days, there was a lot of recovering. Halt had his injured leg seen to by a professional healer, even though he insisted it didn't hurt anymore.

The loss of Jarlon was a constant ache in Crowley's heart, but he soon found himself having happy times with his friends.

He didn't, however, want Pauline to keep Midnight as it was a constant reminder of Jarlon. He didn't say this to her, but she saw it in his eyes. They gave it to the farmers son, who was taking over the farm from his father now that they were leaving.

Lukas spent his evenings writing reports to send to the corps commandant. Halt, Crowley and Pauline left him too it, exploring the castle and village.

With no clear destination in mind, all three of them felt a little overwhelmed. Crowley couldn't see himself training as a ranger without Jarlon. Pauline was realising that she could choose how she wanted to live her life, a prospect that was quite daunting. Halt didn't yet know everything about Araluen and he sometimes felt as if he were drowning in all the things he didn't know.

None of them could picture their future. All they could do was live life in the moment and hope for the best. While all around them, normal people carried on with normal lives, as they had been doing through all the good times and the bad the three friends had shared.


	24. Our Brightest day

**Our Brightest Day**

Pauline sat on a wooden bench in the flower garden, swinging her legs. The sun was warm on her face, making her comfortable. She loved the flowers with all their bright, vibrant colours.

"Hello again dear." It was Mary, the old woman who tended to the flowers.

"Hello," Pauline said, still unused to people talking to her. Back when she was known to be Rosalees apprentice, people went out of their way to avoid her.

"You like it here, don't you?" Mary smiled, the corners of her eyes wrinkling in a way that made her seem kind and cheerful. She sat down beside Pauline.

"Yes, I like the flowers," Pauline said.

"Of course," Mary said. "I know another young girl who often comes here as well. Amy, I think her name was."

Pauline didn't look at her. Her face burned with shame and she bowed her head. She remembered Amy. The girl who she had tricked into running off into the woods.

"Ah yes, you two would be good friends, I am sure."

Pauline didn't know what to say to that. She was pretty sure Amy wouldn't want to be friends with her. In fact, she thought Amy might never wish to see her ace again.

"Mary?" she asked. Mary looked at her.

"Yes dear?"

"Would I be able to take a flower?"

Mary hesitated. "Well, I don't normally allow it. But maybe, just this once."

"Thank you," Pauline said with a beaming smile. Mary nodded. "Which one would you like?"

Pauline thought for a moment. They were all very pretty. She liked the roses, but felt that they wouldn't be sutitable, what with the prickles. In the end, she gently picked a blue flower.

Mary smiled. "A lovely choice," she said.

"Thank you very much," Pauline said gratefully. "I'm going to Castle Araluen today, so goodbye."

Mary nodded. "A fine castle it is. I've only been there once myself. Goodbye, Pauline, have fun."

"You too," Pauline said. She held the flower gently as she left the gardens and walked through Clifend.

She knew exactly where she was going, but she walked slowly, using ever excuse she could not to get there. She didn't know what sort of reception she would receive and was very nervous.

Eventually, she came to the little house by the fringe of the forest. Smoke was rising from the chimney and it seemed very peaceful.

She walked up to the door. Her courage deserted her. She left the flower on the doorstep and walked away.

"What's that?" she heard a woman ask. She turned back, remaining hidden behind a tree and smiled as she saw the motherly woman and her slim daughter staring at the flower.

Amy bent down and gently picked it up. Her hair was shiny and her cheeks rosy with contentment. She looked happy, Pauline thought.

"From one of those nice village lads, is it?"

Amy's face went red and she ducked inside the house. Pauline heard her protesting while her mother laughed.

She slipped back to the village. She wasn't sure what to do now, as she had no idea where Halt and Crowley were. She decided to head up to her room and finish packing.

"Pauline?" a voice said uncertainly. She turned around.

Lady Melaine was standing there, looking awkward. Pauline didn't know what to do or say. She had never expected to see the courier again.

"It is you!" Melaine cried, her face splitting in a smile. "I thought I'd never see you again."

"Me too," Pauline said, though truthfully she had never even wanted to see the courier again.

"I heard all about Rosalee and what she did. Despicable! Horrible!"

Pauline shrugged. The why didn't you stop her, she thought. It had always been so obvious.

"Although, truthfully, I did have a gut feeling something wasn't right," Melaine continued.

"The why didn't you help me?" Pauline asked before she could stop herself. The question exploded from her lips with much more anger than she had intended.

"Oh, sweetie," Melaine said. "I was so afraid of being wrong. I should have done or said something. I'm truly sorry."

Pauline could see that the courier really was sorry. There was no doubt that Melaine was a kind person. She just annoyed Pauline somehow. _I was so afraid of being wrong._ Melaine didn't know what real fear was, not at all.

"But to make it up, I will offer you a chance to become my apprentice," Melaine said.

Pauline gaped at her.

"I don't expect you to accept right away, but-"

"No," Pauline said, more sharpely than she had intended.

She could, possibly, forgive Melaine. She might even grow to like her. But she could never trust her and that was what Pauline wanted and needed now. A mentor she could trust like she trusted Lukas, Halt and Crowley.

"I'm sorry," Pauline said, her tone softer. "I don't want to be reminded of Rosalee any more."

Melaine sighed. "Yes, very well."

"But you still want to be a courier?"

Pauline jumped, her heart thumping. Melaine looked just as startled.

"Who..?"

"Ranger Lukas, my lady, from Caraway fief," Lukas said smoothly, stepping out from the shadows.

"You scared me half to death," Melaine gasped. She shook her head. "I'll leave Pauline to you then, take good care of her."

Lukas waited until the courier had left.

"I have a good friend who would be delighted to take you under her wing as an apprentice," he said. "I know she'll be an excellent mentor."

Pauline smiled. "I'd like that."

"Now, let's go saddle up our horses, yes?"

…...

Crowley loved the feel of the wind whipping around his face. He closed his eyes, letting Swift guide the way, thoroughly enjoying the cool air on his face. He sensed Pauline and Lukas riding beside him, also enjoying the fresh morning air.

He remembered a time that was only two months ago, though it felt like a lifetime had gone by since. He'd been running through the trees, chasing his mentor, desperate to stop him. He'd been so confused and hurt, not understanding why Jarlon had chosen to leave him and the corps.

Since that moment, he'd resolved to follow his mentor. He'd been chasing after Jarlon like a wounded puppy. He wouldn't have hesitated to die if it would make Jarlon happy.

He understood now that his helpless loyalty came from lonliness more than anything else. He was still suffering from the loss of his family. He had been desperate to have someone else to love, to not fall victim to his shredded heart.

But even if his loyalty and his love had been born from pain, they had been no less real for it. He had loved Jarlon like a vastly respected uncle. He'd been a father figure, which had given Crowley some comfort in the long nights. But Jarlon had never been able to replace Crowleys real father.

Now, his nightmares were gone. Occasionally, he would dream once again of that burning house, that was unavoidable after what he'd been through. But many more nights were empty and black and held no fear for him. He had feared, after Jarlon had died, that he would be forced to see that moment again and again in his dreams.

He wasn't. He dreamed of Jarlon walking along a long narrow road. Jarlon's face was hidden in the cowl of his ranger cloak. Crowley was walking behind him, but he sensed that Jarlon didn't know he was there. He was a spectator.

There came a point where Crowley could walk no longer. He stared down at his feet. He somehow knew there was a woman there, in a flowing couriers dress. He also knew he mustn't look up and see her face. Not yet.

He remained on the road as Jarlon and his lover slowly walked further and further away.

In the morning, Crowley had woken with tears on his face and a smile on his lips.

Now, he smiled to himself. Jarlon had found his peace. It was time for Crowley to find his.

It was time to move on.

…...

So close to the sea, the air tasted salty. The wind was feirce, tangling Halt's hair. He stood on the edge of the cliff, looking out at the horizen.

Somewhere out there was Hibernia, the country he'd lived in all his life. She was out there too. He wondered what she was doing and feeling at this very moment.

Right now, she would be living a life he would never again experience. He'd chosen to run away. What right did he have to be jealous? But surely, if he told his parents, he could figure something out.

Halt sighed. He held his amulet tightly in his fist. The cool metal was a familiar feel. He remembered holding Pauline's hand and how it was warm with life.

He recalled how before that, he had risked getting out of the river to save his amulet. When he was holding onto the rock, he let go. Then, he'd grabbed the tree. He'd seen his amulet and hadn't hesitated in trying to get it. He didn't attempt to pull himself onto the bank until Crowley had gotten his amulet for him.

Crowley hadn't asked any more questions about it after the river. Halt was grateful for that. He could never talk about it aloud.

He knew why he couldn't. Saying something made it seem real. And silly.

Crowley was real. Pauline was real. Lukas was real.

His amulet was an object that reminded him of her. Her smile, the way her dark hair danced in the wind, her determinaton and stubborness. All the things they had talked about together. All the times they had shared.

But that wasn't real anymore. She was just a memory.

He threw the amulet over the edge of the cliff. It sailed through the air, glinting in the sunlight, then disappeared under the waves.

For one crazy moment, he wanted to jump in after it. But for once in his life, he resisted an impulse and stepped back away from the cliff edge. After a moment, the urge passed.

He didn't need an amulet to remember her. She would always have a place in his heart. But right now, he wanted to enjoy life with his friends.

Dark whinnied a greeting. Halt smiled at the ocean as he heard the three horses snuffling and pawing behind him.

He turned around. Lukas, Crowley and Pauline were more than just a memory. He mounted Dark.

"Ready to go?" Lukas asked.

Halt nodded and the four companions rode side by side towards Castle Araluen, each of them with their own goals in mind.

The sky was blue that day. That bright, bright day.

**The end! Please, please review! **


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